First, it's Qui-Gon.
Unlike what many seem to think, he does not blame Obi-Wan for that; for many, many months afterward, awakening in the middle of the night would lead to the discovery that his sleep deprived mentor was up and about, exhausted but too guilt ridden to sleep properly, condemning himself for his Master's death with every waking moment, though it is by no account truly the young Knight's fault.
It was the Sith's fault mostly, but a part of him cannot help but feel a sting of resentment for the old Jedi Master, who had raised his expectations so damningly high, only to have them abruptly crushed and leaving him with a broken, emotionally stunted ex-Padawan as a teacher and a Council full of distant, unfriendly Jedi Masters who had distrusted him from the moment they set eyes on him as his handlers.
(The Jedi, who ignored Qui-Gon's warnings about the Sith. The Jedi, who sent them to Naboo with the Queen despite knowing two Knights would not be enough to handle the situation on the planet. The Jedi, who were so, so wrong.)
Second, it's Shmi.
Though he can't really blame her; he left her first, after all. He left her for ten years, to languish as a slave all alone under the heat of two unforgiving suns, while he was given all the comforts and respect a Jedi is afforded.
So many times, he had requested a chance to return and free her, or at the very least to just see her again; so many times, his pleas were denied in favor of a new mission, a new lesson, a new waste of time the Council deemed more important than his mother's life.
He had spoken of his dreams extensively with Obi-Wan, hoping against hope that his prim and proper Master might actually listen to him for once in his life and help him save her.
What he got was "All dreams pass in time," a pat on the back and a dismissal back to lightsaber training.
Three months later, he had a dead mother to bury in his arms and a village full of murdered Tusken Raiders left behind him in the dust.
No, he does not blame Shmi. He blames (the Jedi) his own lack of power for his mother's death. And he will not let it happen again.
Third, it's Ahsoka.
Absolutely no blame belongs on her shoulders either.
She had been the perfect student, the perfect (sister) partner; the best Padawan anyone could have asked for.
It was not her fault her best friend was a lying, murdering coward who couldn't even own up to her own actions even when confronted about it at saber point.
It was not her fault the Republic's courts are full of corrupt, bigoted bastards who will do anything to discredit the Jedi.
It was not her fault that the Council had voted on her expulsion from the Order, weighing her life against the reputation the Jedi presented to the public and deeming that more important than her.
No, she deserved the chance to leave the people who had so utterly betrayed and soiled her trust, even if it meant she ended up leaving him behind too.
And in his heart of hearts, he will never forgive (the Jedi) Barriss for making Ahsoka leave him.
Fourth, it's Padme.
Padme, Padme, his wife, his life, his anchor, his strength, the one truly good thing left in his entire galaxy, the only thing worth fighting for anymore.
Denying him?
Turning away from him?
Rejecting him?
Because of what?
Because of him putting down a dangerous rebellion that had threatened the structure of the Republic and nearly stopped this grand new Empire from rising from the Clone Wars' ashes?
Because of his instrumental role in ending the worst war in recent history and saving the life of an old, dear friend who just so happened to offer him the power to save his wife from certain death?
Because of Obi-Wan.
After three years of secret rendezvous', passionate embraces and wild lovemaking in between bloody skirmishes in the Outer Rim and violent dogfights against Grievous, the Jedi are once again denying them their love with nothing but their words.
He's so furious at the thought that his vision actually blacks out for a moment, and when he comes to seconds later, his wife is collapsed upon the ground and Obi-Wan is there, shouting his name.
"You turned her against me!" he screams even as he despairs upon realizing that she has left him too.
(She has left, and perhaps he is the one to blame.)
Fifth, it's Obi-Wan.
There are three charred stumps where his arm and legs should be, he can feel the heat of the lava inching slowly towards him, and all he can do is scream his hatred at the man who did this to him and try as desperately as he can to keep the tears from falling.
"You were my brother, Anakin!" Obi-Wan wails, trembling in his anguish but remaining resolutely at the top of the hill. "I loved you!"
'LIAR!' is all he can think, 'THERE WAS NEVER ANY LOVE! YOU DID AS QUI-GON ASKED, NOTHING MORE; JEDI DON'T LOVE, DO THEY?!'
But he can't say it; he can't even shout a denial, because suddenly there are flames dancing across his body and all he can really do is scream.
His agony is ignored in favor of finding a safe way back to the landing pad, so far away now, and he does not realize his remaining mechanical arm is raised in wordless desperation until Obi-Wan's presence has long since faded away, nothing but a pinprick of awareness at the edge of his overcooked and dying brain.
(Jedi do not love; Jedi do not feel attachment. This is truth; if Obi-Wan had truly loved him, even for only a moment, he would have turned around and finished the job instead of letting him burn.)
… Lastly, it's Luke.
At Bespin, in the depths of the floating cities' maintenance shafts, he reaches out a hand to the boy, so impulsive and rash like someone he once knew, with an offer few could resist.
"Join me," he said (pleaded), wide-eyed and grinning though his son surely could not see his expression behind the blank mask. "We can rule the galaxy together! As father and son!"
And Luke clings to the thin pipeline, wind buffeting his hair and tears stinging his eyes, mangled arm pressed into his armpit and eyes fixed on the looming figure that claimed to be his long sought after father, and he lets go.
He can only watch as his son drops from his sight, quickly becoming lost as the air currents sweep him away into an air duct where he cannot be seen, and for just a moment after his son lets go, it's as if his heart has stopped pumping, like his life support has finally failed in its single-minded mission.
And he can still blame the Jedi for deceiving the boy – can curse Kenobi to the Sith hells and back for lying to Luke for so long about what really happened, who really betrayed whom on that day so long ago – he can always blame Luke's willful stubbornness for this blatant act of defiance.
But he can't.
There is no one to blame for his son's very definite suicide attempt but himself.
(And this is unacceptable.)
Each goodbye was sudden and jarring and terrible, but the last, at least, came with one difference:
Luke came back.
A/N: Yes hello welcome to Star Wars hell, I would like to tell you all about my obsession with Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One who royally fucked up but was royally fucked up in return :^) This sort of cropped up out of nowhere while I was doing homework, and I had to get it out before I forgot it. Hope you enjoyed!
~Persephone