Disclaimer: Star Wars is not mine, and neither are the lyrics! I can only claim the storyline as my own!

One shot introspection inspired by the Linkin Park song "Easier to Run"

THE DARKNESS OF MY PAST

"If I could change I would

Take back the pain I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made I would

If I could

Stand up and take the blame I would

If I could take all the shame to my grave I

Would"

Linkin Park: Easier to Run

The glare of the twin suns sinking below the crimson sand has me with closed eyes against bent knees. Fifteen years have I been on this sandpit, but the pain that has brought me here has yet to subside.

I'm beginning to wonder if it ever will.

My head raises as my eyes open to see the last of the light slipping from view. My heart aches as the sight reminds me of another light I watched fall into the darkness.

The light of my beloved padawan.

Twilight was fading as the pitch black of night engulfed the barren landscape, broken only by the sparkling clarity of the stars above. I wish that clarity would fill my mind, so I can escape these moving pictures in my head that continue to play.

How much of the blame was mine? Granted, he had chosen the path for himself, but how much did I push him towards it? I stretch out on the rapidly cooling sand and gaze upward at the stars, allowing my thoughts to drift among them. Soon, I find myself lost in a universe of memories, drifting until I come upon one that calls me closer.

The first time I laid eyes on the wide-eyed boy Master Jinn had rescued from slavery, I could feel the incredible untapped potential within him. He had been thirsty for knowledge, and drank in every detail of Jedi lore that Master Jinn told him. The entire trip to Coruscant they were glued to each other. Though I had felt myself drawn to the boy, being ignored the entire trip caused jealousy to begin prodding me sharply.

After all, that was MY master he was clinging to, that was ignoring me in his favor. The master I'd had to fight so hard to get, struggled to get any approval from. The same master who now lavished his praise on the child he'd only known a few days. Even so many years later, one question continues to haunt me, now it has once again become overwhelming.

WHAT DID THAT BRAT HAVE THAT I DIDN'T?

Master Jinn was as enamored with the boy as the boy was with him. Was it because of that prophecy he chose to believe? Or had he just had enough of me. The pain again pierces my heart as my thoughts fast forward, only to resume with THAT Council meeting.

I had stood there, trying not to glare at my master as he faced the Council, his large hands resting on Anakin's shoulders. As Master Jinn announced me ready for the trials, and I quickly stepped up to agree, all I felt was jealous betrayal. My calmer, rational side tried to convince me that this was really a vote of confidence. In a way, it was.

That still did not mask the very obvious fact that I was being shoved aside in favor of The Chosen One.

I can remember thinking to myself that Master Jinn had finally found his "perfect apprentice". And it ate at my heart that it wasn't me.

I was so relieved that the Council had postponed their decision. It gave me time to change my master's ever stubborn mind. Besides, I had my doubts if I truly was ready to face the trials. After all, this wasn't how I thought it would go, and I resisted the path that I had been thrown on.

As these memories faded and I drifted once again, I wondered if things would have gone differently if I hadn't allowed my jealousies to get the best of me. These questions would never be answered. The past cannot be changed; the pain cannot be taken away.

If I could, would I really go back and change things? Would I be able to change everything I had done upon our return to Naboo, the desperate seeking of approval, the disagreements with Master over the boy? Could I have kept up with the battle against the Sith, and prevented Qui-Gon from falling on his blade? Would any of that have made any difference?

I am aware of the tears flowing down my face, testament of the remorse I now feel. Still, I am lost in the trance that has come over me, and my thoughts continue to drift in my universe of pain.

Again, I stand in the reactor room of Theed's Grand Palace. The Sith has just fallen to my blade and I rush to my master's side. As I kneel beside him, cradling his head in my lap and watching the life drain from his eyes, I prepare to promise anything to the man who has become the only father I ever had.

Even before the words were spoken, my heart knew what they would be.

"Promise me you'll train the boy."

"Yes Master."

Who would have known that those two words would doom the entire galaxy?

Fragmented memories flit by of the days after the promise had been made. Upon seeing Anakin crumble at the news of his savior's death, I vowed to rid myself of the negatives associated with him. After all, it wasn't his fault Master Jinn had favored him over me. We were united in our grief, and I had promised to train him. I would do so to the best of my abilities, and make Qui-Gon proud.

Theory is always easier than reality.

I learned this quickly during our first years together. Even as I marveled in his quick grasp of his studies, and his ever increasing skill with a lightsaber, a little voice persisted in telling me how much better he was than I, and how much better Master Jinn would have thought he was had he been alive. I tried to push it to the side, but it came up at the worst of times. Times I was already upset with some little trick Anakin had pulled, or was just feeling sorry for the time I had missed by taking on an apprentice before I was ready. At these times, my reprimands had been harsher than necessary. I always apologized, but I knew the damage had been done.

As he grew, so did my affection for him. He truly was a wonder, forever surprising me either with some new droid he had constructed, or his ever growing skill with the saber. As my past jealousies faded, we became closer than ever. He was like the younger brother I never had.

We have many good memories, many of which now flash before me. A small corner of my mind wonders if he still has these memories, if some corner of his soul continues to cherish them. Though I doubt it, I can always hope that he hasn't forgotten them completely.

One memory in particular strikes me, and I startle myself with my laughter. Anakin had been thirteen at the time, and had decided to make me a birthday cake for me all by himself. Unfortunately for the boy, he had learned cooking from me, and the mess I had walked into was truly hilarious. Flour covered every surface of the kitchen, including the young man, who had just tasted the batter he had battled with for the largest part of the day.

He flashed me a sheepish look as he tried to hide the disgusted face he had made. "Master, you're early." he had managed to say.

"Yes, the meeting didn't last as long as I had expected. Care to explain this mess?"

He had looked up at me guiltily, as though he expected me to be angry. "I tried to make you a birthday cake." came his quiet reply.

"And?" I knew what had happened, but I didn't feel like letting him off the hook just yet.

Disappointment clouded his eyes as he looked into mine. "It's awful! I couldn't figure it out, and it tastes horrible!"

"Now tell me, is it as bad as anything I've ever made?"

"I don't know if I would say that..." He realized what he had said, and stopped midsentence, waiting for the reprimand he thought was coming. Instead, he heard my laughter.

"Come, my young apprentice, and let's clean this mess up. Bant has invited us for last-meal with her, and we don't want to keep her waiting, now do we?" I winked at the visibly relieved young man, and we proceeded to clean the place in time to make it to Bant's.

This memory faded along with the rest, and I continued to drift in my universe of pain. Yes, though I would never have believed it when we first met, Anakin and I had developed a bond as strong as any between master and padawan. I did everything I could to guide him on his path to Knighthood, and thought guidance and friendship would be enough.

For he truly had become a friend. A friend and a trusted partner. For a long time, I thought nothing would ever take that away.

Then, he became distant. This memory now finds its way to the front of my mind. When he had been reunited with Padme, then after his mother had died. The events of the time had kept us apart, but the emotional distance was far greater. I began to realize that guidance and friendship were not enough. Anakin needed understanding as well, something I had been unable, or was that unwilling, to give. Too late, I realized that he had found someone to understand him in the way that I never had.

I had hoped that he would choose the right path, and return to the Jedi without the attachment I felt between him and the senator. It was this attachment that I could not understand. The galaxy was in chaos, and I turned a blind eye on my suspicions to focus on the beginning of the Clone Wars.

I felt him slip away during that time, though I did what I could to keep him on the right path. Still, my efforts were not enough. The man I had raised, that had become my friend and trusted partner, soon became a monster.

The last time I saw him was when we fought. This memory flashes brightly before my closed eyes, engulfing me in its agony. He'd already led the attack on the Temple, killing everyone who stood in his way. "Only pain will you find there," Master Yoda had said as I reached to play the security recordings, and never had he been so right. Even so, the pain became blinding and numbing in some bizarre mixture when he sent me to find and kill my apprentice.

It was in shock that I realized that Padme carried his child, children as I would come to learn. The pieces of my heart shattered further as I felt her reaction to my pronouncement of the crimes Anakin had committed. When she refused to tell me his location, I had no choice but to stow aboard her ship. Yet another decision I would come to regret.

I tried to reason with him, thinking that the darkness had not yet overwhelmed him. Then I discovered the lies he had been fed, and how those lies had transformed the once brilliant Force presence into a twisted mockery of itself. The battle that ensued had been fierce, with neither of us giving ground. It was only when Anakin had been overcome with his own cockiness that he had slipped, literally.

My heart still screams with the pain as I remember looking over the ledge onto the shore below where my fallen apprentice was desperately trying to scrabble up the loose, black sand. Only his metal arm remained, the other three limbs having been separated from his body with my blade. In my pain, I yelled my betrayal at him, hoping maybe some part of the brilliant young man remained. As he growled "I hate you" I knew all hope was lost. The fire consumed him, both inside and out as I walked away, unable to strike the death blow. I left his fate to the Force, perhaps my greatest error made in compassion.

I grieved the loss of Anakin as much as anyone, perhaps more so. And at that moment, I cursed Qui-Gon Jinn for the responsibility he gave me, for saddling me with the burden and friendship that marked my days with Anakin. At that moment I marked my second failure.

Not only had I not been able to save my master, but I had lost my apprentice as well.

The cold of the night awakens me from my trance, and I stand from the cold sand to make my way inside the hovel I reluctantly call home. Time had not healed the wounds like I had believed it would. Tonight had proven that.

I sat on the edge of my sleep cot and wondered if Anakin had truly died in the pit, to be completely replaced by the twisted machinery known as Darth Vader. The monster that now inhabits my former apprentices' body produced such feelings of hate within me that it scared me. Vader had stolen my friend from me, Padme's husband from her, not to mention the countless others he had stolen during the purges, or the innocents killed at his command. I cannot for a moment believe that anything remains of my former apprentice inside that monster.

As I prepare myself for sleep, I think about the one I guard, Anakin's son hiding in plain sight. I had seen him earlier today, perhaps the cause for the deluge of memories. He looked so much as his father had at fifteen, and had the same adventurous spirit that I had so loved about Anakin that it made me heartsick to see him. Even worse was when he had nodded absently to me as we passed in front of the shop, not a trace of recognition in the trusting blue eyes. But how would he know me? His uncle had successfully kept me from the boy since I had delivered him to the couple.

"I can't have you corrupting the boy as you did his father! Look how having you as a mentor worked for him!"

The harsh words echoed through my mind. But I had to agree with them. I have accepted the blame for what has happened, and I will take the shame of it to my grave. I will never forget the darkness of my past, or the memories I wish I didn't have. I wish I could let go, and never look back. If I never move forward, there would no longer be a past.

Then I think about Luke. Without a past, there would be no future.