"All Of My Hate Cannot Be Found"


Bane remembered all of it and he hated it. Given the choice, he would forget it.

The row of empty shot glasses in front of him seemed to stare back, like empty eyes, taunting him. The grimy table was streaked with marks of previous bar patrons—phone numbers scratched into the sides, stains of blood and dirt and various fluids on the seats. Initials were written in black pen, a heart shape around them. Disgusting.

He held his head and began counting the cigarettes in the ashtray. A waitress set his next round of drinks on the table, but Bane paid her no mind and she walked away.

Everything was flipping him off no matter where he turned. Even music, normally such a good escape, had turned against him now. Next it would be the stars themselves. Nothing was good and everything was terrible.

"I'll give you a reward…" he muttered under his breath, scratching his tongue with a toothpick until he tasted blood. "Hardeen…Kenobi…"

I saved your life and tried to trust you. I wanted you safe. I wanted to trust you…fuck it. Just fuck it, I wanted a friend.

Gods, and I fell for the whole act and made a big fool of myself. A running gag. A punchline.

That's what I get for trusting someone. That fucker.


Unbeknownst to Bane, a Jedi had entered the cantina, he had met before.

Anakin sat at the counter, fists clenched. He glared up at the bartender with bloodshot eyes and ordered whiskey.

More than another episode out on the battlefield when he knew his attachments were being stretched, pushed to the limit. Someone had taken it, yanked it right out of him, and split it in two with that one simple decision.

"It was my decision."

Not Obi-Wan. Not the one he trusted the most. Yet the same man had turned Anakin's trust in him into a tool. The more he thought about it, the more Anakin's heart crumbled.

A pop song came up on the speakers and Anakin felt the sudden urge to pull his brains out through his ears. Not another song about friendship and companionship. Not another reminder of why his heart would not stop aching. Why did everything else have to be so cheerful right now?

Again and again, Anakin could only narrow it down to the terrible truth. He had not been lied to because he was too reckless, but because he loved. He was deceived because he cared.

"See if I love or care about anyone or anything ever again," Anakin snarled. "Everything is so terrible."

Right on cue, he sensed a familiar presence. A presence that was filthy, brooding, and…drunk? A male Duros. Oh, no.

Why…why him and why tonight? Why was life so unfair?

Anakin got up to leave before Bane had the chance to spot him. Unfortunately, by getting up and walking away, he ran smack into someone who had gotten up to exit through the same door. He ran into a tall, skinny Duros with a dirty hat. Fuck Anakin's whole life.

"Why don't you watch where…" the Duros looked at him. "Oh, it's you."

"It's you." Anakin, instinctively, reached for his lightsaber on his belt.

Bane put his hand on his holster, looking at Anakin with an expression that clearly indicated Bane had had too many drinks to be able to put up much of a fight.

"Look, a Jedi is the last thing I want to see right now," Bane snarled.

"Too bad!" Because Bane had been in on the plot that Obi-Wan had to infiltrate, Anakin could only feel hatred towards Bane. If there were fewer criminals like him out there causing trouble, Obi-Wan wouldn't have done this in the first place. Would have made a lot less sense if Anakin hadn't already had a few drinks at the last cantina.

Bane cocked an eyebrow. "You want to fight?"

"Why wouldn't I—" Suddenly Anakin stopped. "You know what, forget it. I don't want to fight. You're not worth my time."

"If I wasn't so drunk I'd feel insulted," he snapped. He rubbed his forehead. "What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?"

"None of your business!" Anakin stumbled.

The Duros held up his hands and slapped a few credits on the counter. "You're drunk too, Jedi boy. Are you celebrating that successful endeavor at protecting your precious Chancellor?"

"Of course I am! I mean…sort of." Anakin held his head. His thoughts were messed up. He was angry with Obi-Wan, not Bane…right? His heart had been broken and it was Obi-Wan's fault. "No, I'm not."

Anakin cringed when he felt Bane's hand grab his shoulder. Anakin wasn't sure how he felt about being in such close physical proximity with this man.

"You want to know what I'm celebrating?"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "No, what?" Please don't be something disgusting or I'll gut you.

"I'm celebrating the…wait, I'm not celebrating. Why should I?" His tone darkened. "It's that Kenobi fucker. He's the one who's celebrating right now."

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin stared at him, confused. "Why would he be the reason you're drinking?"

And suddenly Anakin got a lot more of an answer than he had expected. Bane dragged Anakin back to his table, and suddenly began spilling—what seemed to Anakin, that is—a a longwinded, overdramatic, one-sided discussion. On how Bane had trusted Hardeen so much that he went out of his way to protect Hardeen, more than once. How Hardeen turned out to be Kenobi all along and rubbed it in his face after having him arrested. How Bane felt pathetic because he felt so miserable about losing a potential friend. The more Bane talked, the more he drank. He began to spiral down into a very emotionally vulnerable state.

Anakin began to panic. First, he felt the stirrings of pity, maybe even compassion, for the life of Cad Bane. But maybe that could be blamed on the drinks. It still scared him. Second, even if a part of him wanted to, Anakin really couldn't deal with Bane's shit right now. Enough was going on in his life already.

So, deciding to handle the situation in a mature fashion, Anakin ordered more drinks for both of them, and joined the conversation.

"I mean…is it too much to ask for one person who won't turn their back on you?" Bane asked over half an hour later. He was cradling an empty shot glass in his hand. "Just one fucking friend, man. Is that too much?"

"Nooo, I feel you." Anakin watched Bane's fingers tapping the table; it looked like magic. "For fuck's sake, I trusted him too. And he knew what it would do to me to see him killed and he did it anyway."

"Get out. You got your Padawan, your clones, other Jedi."

"So? You got your bounty hunter friends. And you get around."

"Nah, any of them would turn on me given the chance," Bane laughed. "They're only friends when it suits them. When it suits me."

"And I wonder whose fault that is?"

Bane rested his head on the table. "Why doesn't anyone like me, Skywalker?"

"What?" For a moment, Anakin hoped that he had just been hearing things. After all, he was having way too much to drink right now. He should probably be heading back to the Temple, otherwise he could find himself in deep trouble.

"How come nobody likes me?"

Anakin stared at him for a full ten seconds. "I cannot believe you really just asked me that."

"I just wanna know…"

"I don't think you can handle that conversation." Anakin groaned. He had really been given too much to process in one night. "I should go…"

He startled when Bane grabbed his arm tightly, as if Anakin were being pulled away from him. "You were going to tell me about why you're here…"

"Oh, yes. That." Anakin sighed. He had said far too much already. How good of an idea was it to whine about Obi-Wan related problems to the enemy, anyway? If Cad Bane was an enemy…what? Of course he was.

As strange as it sounded, this felt like it helped. Anakin had a distraction from his own life, if only temporarily. He had someone to talk to who wouldn't try to insist that Obi-Wan had been right.

In fact—when he was with Bane—he could say any terrible thing he wanted about the Jedi Council, any Jedi for that matter, the Republic, and not be criticized or put into trouble for it.

He sat back down and offered to buy both of them something to eat.

The thought passed through the back of Anakin's mind that he would regret this. But he felt the urge to stay. And maybe it was for more than just his own sake.