Without Reason
By: Song
Summary: Anakin knew something was wrong when he wasn't awakened for morning meditation.
A/U: This morning I read a fic. This is what resulted.
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By the time mid day came around and the padawan was not rudely awakened by the force-forsaken early riser known as ObiWan Kenobi- he knew something was wrong. There was no merry clanking in the kitchen unit as his master attempted to cook. The sweet scent of tea did not caress his senses.
They had returned late last night from a tedious and stressful mission.
Anakin chuckled lightly to himself. The mission must have taken more out of ObiWan than he thought.
After a brief stop in the fresher Anakin wandered into his master's room.
Warm light filtered through the transpari-steel plates that lined the apartment complex, spilling over the blanket and onto the table, reflecting merrily on the hilt of the light saber standing there.
Monotone Jedi robes sat folded on the floor waiting to be washed. This was another strange anomaly that made up a piece of the enigma that was his master- the compulsive, bordering on obsessive need to fold any piece of cloth in sight. Like everything else in the room it was prim and popper, perfectly placed.
His eyes wandered to the sleeping form.
"Master?"
The mass on the sleep couch didn't stir.
"Master?!" Fearfully stepping closer Anakin reached out a hand, shaking the sleeping man.
"Obi Wan!?!"
A feeling of dread settled somewhere around his stomach.
Nothing.
No response. No grumbled protest. No movement.
Nothing.
"Master!!!" he called out again, turning the pallid man whose eyes were closed in some mockery of sleep.
Every force sensitive in the galaxy felt the pained pulsation as its chosen came to the terrifying realization.
He was dead.
Fin