Summary: Relationships unfold in phases, and Anakin is about to take his first steps into a larger world. Obi-Wan/Anakin.
Dislcaimer: I own nothing, claim nothing, make profit from nothing. I am a lowly student with a computer and a cup o' noodles.
A/N: Just a little shout-out to all the lovelies who make the realm of Star Wars fandom and Obi/Ani such a marvelous place in which to spend time that should be spent doing homework. ; ) I'm looking primarily at you, Xtine, Temple Mistress, Monchy, Shanobi, and alchemy dream. To quote Brian in Velvet Goldmine, "you're stunning, tops, best of the lot." :D
Exhaustion was an illness not to be borne easily.
For an illness it was, as surely as a malevolent little virus that squirmed and flitted its way into the bowels of an unsuspecting youngling. Once exhaustion set in, its effects turned cannibalistic; instead of forcing the victim into the darkness of sleep, it gnawed and teased with restlessness and delirium. Exhaustion shut out sleep, batted it away like a repellent. Even the word insomnia sounded like a poison, the bitter fragrance of a night-blooming vine.
These were the thoughts of Anakin Skywalker, the wandering, overly philosophical and stupidly poetic notions of someone suffering from lack of sleep. But there was more. Beyond the sluggish brain functions and irrational musings were the physical manifestations of exhaustion. Anakin ached in every muscle and joint. They were deep, angry aches that reminded him of the low vibrations of a power generator, not the sharp pains of an injury that could be worked out or relieved with a tonic. These aches were his body's way of scolding him, damning him for any number of weaknesses.
"You look tired, Anakin. Have you been feeling well?"
"I'm alright, Master. Just tired of this war."
"Aren't we all. But I must confess that if your stamina is suffering, I fear things don't look promising for the rest of us."
"Everything will be put to right, Master. After all, you're still leading the charge, strong as ever."
"If you think so that's all that matters."
Anakin swung himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He hunched over and felt the muscles of his back groan with the stretch. His spine cracked like the dry metal frame of a neglected droid. He gripped his knees and turned painfully to gaze at Padmé. Her small white shoulders rose and fell softly in sleep. Anakin smiled for a moment, but the expression slowly faded as envy crept under his skin. Why should her sleep be so peaceful? Why should anyone's during these hard days?
He straightened himself and pulled on a robe. Every bodily movement left him both drained and nudged further away from rest. He walked stiffly into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water, only to have his mouth filled with a cold, acrid taste that left him doubly thirsty.
"Anakin, I was wondering if you would ever show up again. It's been so quiet here I was thinking of getting a felinx to keep me company."
"And have another pathetic life form ruin your pristine quarters now that you've finally gotten rid of me? I doubt it."
"I hardly 'got rid' of you Anakin. But you're probably right, another hairy, smelly pet might be a bad idea. Still, it is disconcertingly quiet. I guess I could get a music ball or something. You know, I think Qui-Gon kept an instrument of some kind around here. What was it again?"
"A Ludurian nose flute."
"Was it? How appalling! Well, nevermind that. I've just made some tea. Would you care for some? I've got some sweetner here just for you."
Anakin stood silently in the suite-kitchen of Padmé's residence. A careful eye would see the slight wavering in his posture, the almost imperceptible unsteadiness of his aching feet and knees. He could hear the whole of Coruscant around him: the hum of the low-hanging light fixture, the wind currents from the traffic of nighttime maintenance vehicles, even the occasional far-off wail of a security siren. It amazed Anakin how much noise could fill a silence. Much to his dismay, his own deepening connection to the Force kept him in contact with a vast wall of dissonance even in these dark hours. Only in meditation could he escape the cacophony, but he had little patience for it (or skill in it, as Obi-Wan was only too fond of reminding him). Sleep, however, would be a welcome second. Wonderful, elusive sleep would transform his stillness into comfort rather than the paralysis that froze his nights and haunted his days.
Anakin felt as though only a small fraction of his brain was working, just enough to place one foot in front of the other. He blinked dry, stinging eyes and ran a dry, clumsy hand through a tangle of hair. His arms hung like weights at his side. This could not continue. For a brief second, the thought of simply dropping dead flickered through Anakin's mind, and the prospect actually sounded like a good idea. He shook his head to distract himself from his own imagination. Dazed and despondent, Anakin walked numbly through the apartment, stole a final brief glance at Padmé, slunk back into his clothes and slipped out the door. If there was any guilt present, it was left at the foot of Padmé's bed, a pitiful and forgotten figment abandoned in a haze of exhaustion.
Anakin started walking.
"Are you going to sleep all day, padawan?"
"Mmmghrrph."
"What's that? You don't want to spar today? You'd rather sleep?"
"Hmmrumph."
"Very well then, I guess I'll just dismantle your lightsaber and donate the parts to the Temple's reserves. It's quite a shame, too, since we went to so much trouble to build it, I really thought—"
"I'm up, Master! I'm up. I'm just...not very awake."
"This is quite a habit you've developed. When we first met you didn't strike me as a heavy sleeper."
"I wasn't."
"Anakin?"
"Yes, Master?"
"Cover your mouth when you yawn."
"Sorry."
"That's fine. Now keep your eyes open for one moment, I'd like to ask you a question. When were you required to report to Watto on Tatooine?"
"Anytime."
"When was anytime?"
"Any time he wanted me. But if he didn't call before the first sun rose, I had to be up anyway."
"Anakin,"
"Yes, Master?"
"I'm going to make breakfast. I'll call you when it's ready, how does that sound?"
"Like I have 15 or 20 more minutes to sleep."
"Indeed. Now, make that sleep count. We've got a long day ahead."
Within a few moments, Anakin found himself on a landing platform in the chill of the night air. The dark of the sky melted over the city's gold and silver lights so that everything took on a slightly murky appearance, almost as if Anakin were staring out a rain-streaked window. He blinked and rubbed his eyes painfully. With the automated movement of a pilot droid, he slid into a open-topped transport and fell away from the building in a lazy downward swoop.
"Destination?" asked the steely voice of the navigation system. Anakin switched the system offline and took over the steering on his own. No need for directions tonight.