Title: Split Infinities.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. George Lucas owns it all.
Rating: G
Pairing: implied A/O. P/A.
Genre: Alternate Universe. Angst.
Warnings: Possible OOCness but nothing to bad. I hope.
Summary: A different path was chosen after Anakin had his dream in "RotS". Not letting it stew in his mind, he took his problem straight to Obi-Wan and asked for help.
Reviews: Are like chocolate. Helpful comments are accepted. Flames against me will be ignored.

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Anakin lurched upright in bed, gasping, staring blindly into the alien darkness. The visions in his head would not leave. Visions of Padmé, screaming for him. Crying, begging-pleading for his forgiveness, for his love...they pained him and he buried his head in his hands for a moment before tossing aside the sweat soaked covers and rising.

There was something he needed to do-and it would not wait. Not any longer-it had been to long as it was.

Padmé woke up when she felt him leave the bed. Opening her eyes slightly, she saw Anakin throw on his robe and leave, almost blindly running from the bedroom, as though demons were chasing after him. Getting up, she followed him and looked out the balcony door, worried when he left the building and headed for the Jedi Temple.

For just a moment, she thought about staying behind and waiting for him to come back and tell her what was going on. Shaking her head at the thought of inaction, she slipped on his dark robe. Keeping the hood up to cover her face, she silently followed him.

Anakin opened the door to Obi-Wan's door, sensing his calming presence within the room.

His guilt at what he was about to do fled as the peace enveloped him within loving arms. The door closed half-way behind him and he went straight into Obi-Wan's room, pausing for a moment to study the sleeping Master. An aura of more than mere exhaustion exuded from him as he slept. The lines that he'd acquired over the years had softened, revealing the face of a much younger man.

Again, a slight twinge of guilt hit him and was just as quickly discounted. Obi-Wan often encouraged him to seek him out when things troubled him. This dream hung heavily in his mind, poisoning his perception and he needed that clear and steady hand to help him through this whole thing. And he was tired of keeping things from his friend, it exhausted him and hurt him in ways that he could not even begin to understand.

Obi-Wan wouldn't mind being woken up. The young Jedi hoped. Walking over to the bed, he sat down and softly called, "Master?" Reaching out with one hand, he gently shook him until there was movement. Sitting up, he waited.

Obi-Wan rolled over, his sleepy greenish blue gray eyes opening half-way. His hand rose to cover a yawn as he focused his attention on Anakin. Studying his former apprentice for a moment, he said, quite calmly. "How odd. I'm being visited in the middle of the night by a half naked Anakin, looking deliciously tousled and oh so delectable. I must be dreaming."

With that, he began to roll over, pulling up the covers as he did so. When they didn't budge, he irritably said. "Anakin, would you mind moving? As we are on Coruscant, this behavior is hardly appropriate."

"So, it would be appropriate if we were elsewhere?" Anakin asked, momentarily forgetting why he had come. The words his Master spoke, in that tone of voice, were doing wonders for his mind-and that's not all it was doing, he thought as he relaxed into it. A new thought was winding its traitorous way through his mind and he couldn't help but smile lasciviously. It was a found dream he'd had on many a night after his Master had started to thaw towards him-and he'd stopped being a rebellious, know it all brat. "I shall have to keep that in mind when we're on one of those oh, so cold planets."

"Hardly," he repressively said. "And, since I am dreaming you here, would you mind not being as difficult as you are in life?"

He sobered up quickly at the second reference to dreams. "Master, please, don't go back to sleep. This isn't a dream. I have to talk to you."

"Is Coruscant burning?"

"Well, no more than before."

"Has General Grievous surrendered?"

"I don't think so."

"Is it something that I can fix at the moment?"

Anakin's head shook as his Master glared at him.

"Then shut up and get under the covers."

"But..."

"Anakin, my head hurts from crashing into the wall earlier. I have a class to teach in two hours. I have to lead a discussion about the sieges along the Outer Rim-with you, if I may be so bold as to remind you of that fact. There are various other meetings I must attend to this day-and that is not including the three hour session of the Jedi Council. If I cannot do anything about your problem right now, I would prefer not to. You know that my door is always open to you-always," he emphasized. "That will not change. Ever. But, at this precise moment, I cannot help you. Get under the covers and go to sleep. We shall talk in the morning."

Of course, he realized that he was being a bit of a snit to Anakin about this, that he should react with Jedi patience and wisdom. That he should find out what was troubling his friend so much that he would seek him out when it had been so many years since he had done so.

But in that moment, he just didn't care. He hurt and was too tired to do so.

"Yes, Master." Anakin picked up the covers and quickly slid under them. His arm slowly, tentatively finding its way about his Master and pulling him in closer, remembering the comfort of this same embrace from when he was younger-only then it had been Obi-Wan who had held him so cautiously, as though he had been afraid Anakin would shatter under his touch. It had been both refuge and home to him during those difficult first days of transition.

With his Master in his arms, allowing him to cuddle him close as he had not been able to do so in years, he found sleep quickly. No dreams disturbed him, they never found purchase when he was here, with Obi-Wan, like this.

Padmé shut the door behind her quietly. She walked down the hall, half stunned, half angry by what she heard.

By what she had seen.

She wanted to run back in there and demand to just know what they thought they were doing-even though she could plainly see how platonic and comforting the embrace was. She wanted to scream at Anakin for betraying her. For betraying their vows, for hurting their child and the future they were supposed to have together.

Her fists clenched with the desire to punch Obi-Wan, to make him bleed for taking Anakin from her, for giving him what she knew now she could not. What she never could, no matter how hard she tried or how deeply she loved him. There were just some thing that she could not do, could never understand.

It hurt, twisting deeply inside of her to think back at her husband's face. His handsome, peaceful, and, for once, totally at home in his own skin, face. For looking so contented, so right lying in his arms, it was almost like her heart was being ripped from her chest to think about it. She ached to be the one Anakin had curled around so trustingly, had released his burdens and cares to.

In the end, she did nothing for how could she? Obi-Wan was a part of Anakin.

And she loved Anakin, so she would ignore whatever it was he had with Obi-Wan.

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Author's Note: RL willing and muse not quiting on me, there should be an update to this story once a week. Surprisingly, this story is almost finished.