The journey back to Coruscant from Naboo was spent in near silence. Ahsoka sat in the copilot's seat in the cockpit, looking intently at the datapad on her lap while not actually paying attention to it, and trying very hard not to glance at Master Kenobi, who still wore Rako Hardeen's face. Immediately after putting the ship into hyperspace, Anakin retreated to the bunk without saying a word. Ahsoka was pretty sure he was even more angry now than he was at the funeral. She knew for a fact that the quieter he was, the angrier he was, and so far, he said absolutely nothing.
"How much longer are we in hyperspace?" She flinched at the sound of Rako Hardeen's voice, even though it had Master Kenobi's inflections, somehow. It was difficult to look at him, so she stood quickly and walked over to the main controls of the ship.
"Two hours," she answered, turning her head slightly towards him.
"Alright."
She sighed and stretched, then made her way back to her seat. She sat down and began scrolling aimlessly again. A few seconds passed, then—
"Ahsoka."
"Yes?" she asked, turning again slightly towards him.
"I didn't realize it would get so out of control," he said softly, and she frowned. Was Master Kenobi making excuses? That was a first. He was called "The Negotiator" for a reason, she assumed. He was quite good with words, but his words now seemed to just fall flat. She shook her head and finally turned to face him.
Rako Hardeen's face was definitely not pleasant to look at normally, but she could see dark shadow-like bruises under his eyes and exhaustion swirling in the depths of his eyes. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to," she answered truthfully. Sure, she felt upset and hurt that the man Anakin trusted with his own life and more deceived them like this, but she couldn't even imagine how Anakin felt.
"You're right, of course," Master Kenobi responded, "And I will, once we get back to the Temple."
"Okay," she said, and then turned back to her datapad.
"Regardless, Ahsoka, I am sorry," he murmured somewhat hoarsely.
She couldn't find it in herself to forgive, especially when she felt so strongly that she wasn't the one ultimately hurt by his deception, so she just nodded. Ahsoka heard him sigh, then pick up his own datapad. Hopefully this meant he would leave her alone for the next two hours.
…
The ship landed smoothly, and Anakin leaned back in the pilot's chair. He could see Master Windu and Master Yoda waiting outside, probably to take Obi-Wan to the Healers' for the transformation. Just thinking about it made him feel sick inside. He didn't even want to know how this all happened, and why the kriffing Council thought all this was a good idea. Sure, they can make their excuses, say that it was to save the Chancellor, but Anakin could think of at least ten other ways to prevent the Chancellor's kidnapping without having to go to these extremes. He sighed and rubbed his face with his flesh hand.
"Anakin, I—"
"I'm not talking to you," Anakin growled, standing up and walking towards the exit of the ship. "Come on, Ahsoka," he said to his padawan as he passed her. She followed, glancing back at Obi-Wan, who stood a few paces behind them. Anakin refused to turn back and look at him. He was pretty sure that he never wanted to see Rako Hardeen's face again, anyways.
He stalked down the ramp, padawan in tow. After giving a stiff nod to Master Windu and Master Yoda, Anakin walked away, barely glancing behind him to see if Ahsoka was following. Without saying a single word, he walked purposefully back to his quarters, dumping his bag onto his bed. Ahsoka stood at the entrance of his bedroom.
"Master?" she asked softly. "I'm not going to ask if you're okay, 'cause, well…but do you want to talk about it at least, or…?" She seemed uncertain for some reason, as though she didn't know exactly what to do when Anakin was acting like this. He wondered briefly if she should know by now.
"I need to take a nap," he muttered. "You're free to do whatever you like for the next hour; the Council will call us for a report on the mission soon," he told her. Once she nodded in acceptance and left, he turned back into his bedroom and flopped onto his sleepcouch, forcing himself to rid himself of all thoughts of everything that just happened, no matter how difficult it was.
How could he do this?
No, Anakin couldn't think about this now, he didn't want to, not when Ahsoka was right outside. He spent five minutes trying to sleep, then sat up. This was all pointless. He walked to his desk and picked up the newest contraption he was working on. It's been far too long since he had the chance to work on anything, he supposed. Maybe that would help.
Or not, he realized twenty minutes later, when the small droid he was trying to build fell to the ground and shattered as tears suddenly began to stream down his cheeks. He had no idea if Ahsoka could hear him crying, if his emotions were being shielded well enough.
Everything was so wrong. How did it even end up like this? Obi-Wan knew from personal experience what it was like to lose your own Master; why would he purposefully subject such a thing on Anakin? Nothing is worth that kind of deception.
"Anakin."
The door was open now, and when he looked up, Anakin could see Obi-Wan's silhouette framed in the light that streamed in from the living room. Anakin's tears immediately stopped, and a cold rush of anger began to burn inside of him.
"I said that I don't want to talk to you," Anakin muttered.
"Then don't talk. Just listen." Hearing Obi-Wan's voice—his actual, Coruscanti-accented voice, not the voice he had as Rako Hardeen—was equally reassuring and frustrating. The lights in the room flicked on, and Obi-Wan stepped inside.
He looked terrible. Whatever they had to do to turn Obi-Wan back into himself had left him clean-shaven with a very short buzz-cut, revealing hollowed cheeks and dark shadows underneath Obi-Wan's eyes. He seemed to be holding himself stiffly, as though he was in pain, though he was desperately trying to hide it.
"I'm sorry, Anakin. I…I know what it's like, and to force you to go through that is unthinkingly cruel of me. I won't make excuses for this, and I know there's no way for me to gain your forgiveness, but I hope you understand why I had to do it," Obi-Wan said finally, voice hoarse.
Anakin paused. That's not what he was expecting Obi-Wan to say. He was expecting Obi-Wan to say something about how it was all for the sake of the mission, that he ultimately saved the Chancellor's life, so Anakin really shouldn't be upset. He expected himself to be even more angry after Obi-Wan spoke, but now he just felt cold and empty. What was he supposed to say now?
"Was it worth it?" Anakin asked after a lengthy pause. "Was all of it—faking your death, the deception, the hiding, everything…Obi-Wan, was all of this worth it?"
Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment before his eyes softened. "Anakin—"
Anakin held up a hand. "No," he interrupted, pulling himself to his feet. "Answer the question, Obi-Wan. Was it worth it?"
For the first time since he'd met him, Obi-Wan seemed stunned to silence. Had the situation been any different, Anakin would have reveled in this moment, but the coldness inside him remained.
Anakin shook his head. "Leave me alone," he muttered, turning around to sit back down on his bed.
"What am I supposed to say, Anakin? This mission saved the Chancellor's life, and the Chancellor is your friend, is he not?" Obi-Wan asked instead, stepping even further into the room. "I cannot say that it wasn't worth it if the mission itself was successful!" Obi-Wan took a deep breath then, and the frustration that seemed to permeate his voice suddenly disappeared, giving way to deep exhaustion. "But it hurt you, Anakin, and I can't…that was wrong of me, Anakin."
"It was," Anakin agreed. He took a deep breath. He couldn't deal with this, not now. "Now that you've said what you wanted, please leave me alone."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Fine," he replied, as he turned slowly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Anakin let out a long exhale before lying down on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Everything was falling apart now. Something was coming, and he didn't know if he would be able to stop it. He didn't even know if he wanted to stop what was coming. All he knew was that everything was wrong, and he did not know when it would all be right again.
