-What I Want-
Chapter 1
Obi-wan Kenobi, jedi master, sat on the edge of his padawan's bed, tired and too sore to really move. He was still limping around thanks to Dooku and the brilliant swordsmanship the man had used to take him out of the fight. He was fine though. He was not suffering as Anakin was at the moment.
Obi-wan had been released two days previous. As master and apprentice, Anakin and Obi-wan even shared a room in the medical wing of the temple because they had been both been injured enough to require medical treatment. As Obi-wan had peered over at his padawan laying in the bed next to him, he could see the tears rolling down the boy's cheeks. It's okay, Anakin was all the older man could think to say, across the space between them, unable to rise from his bed to comfort the boy due to his own pain.
Was it really though? Obi-wan was sure the pain was overwhelming. The boy didn't even have a hand anymore and the stump left behind was a charred mess. He winced at the picture brought to his mind of the flesh that had remained and the pain that he knew Anakin was experiencing although he was sure that they were giving the boy plenty of sedatives to keep him comfortable even in his current state.
Obi-wan had to shut himself off from his padawan's pain in the force because it was far to overpowering and tore him away from his own healing, which took concentration to complete. This was the one time that Obi-wan had to be selfish, or he would never be able to help Anakin through the coming months of rehabilitation. Fix yourself first and then Anakin will need you, he had thought when confronted with the matter.
When Obi-wan had been discharged, Anakin refused to look him in the eyes. He peered at the wall of the room as if the sterile white was somehow more interesting then his own master's face trying to reassure him. Obi-wan's heart sank to his feet at the defeat the boy radiated. There was no way that Anakin could've defeated the much more experienced former jedi, Dooku. Obi-wan should've been there and not lying on the floor languishing in his misery, should've stopped the boy from acting so rashly when confronted with the Sith. Shaking his head in disgust at himself, Obi-wan reached for Anakin's shoulder, but the boy pulled away making it clear he was upset.
Can I bring you anything from your room? Obi-wan had asked in a pathetic whisper. Not the strong master that he normally found himself to be in these situations. Maybe it was because it had never been his padawan in the bed. It had always been someone else's. It was much easier to console another master then yourself. Why did he feel so inadequate, when he knew that Anakin was almost like his flesh and blood? It dawned on Obi-wan then that he was hurting because Anakin was his flesh and blood. His child, although not by name and not by genetics. Someone that he had raised from childhood and nurtured through the hard times in life was now hurting so profusely, that he didn't know how to make him better.
I wish I could take your pain. Obi-wan had wanted to say because he really did mean it, but his throat closed at the idea of saying another word to someone who didn't want to hear his words. The room seemed to echo with the failure which his padawan felt. Anakin had thought that he was stronger, more able, but it turned out that just like Obi-wan, he could not take the Sith down.
My pillow and the music box. Anakin had spoken curtly, the words were a mixture of pure hatred and self-loathing. It made Obi-wan cringe at the sound of his voice. So the jedi had nodded and turned to leave, but something was keeping him from actually leaving. An unspoken question he wanted to ask.
I don't blame you was all that Anakin had said before the door had opened and Obi-wan went to step out. Although the words had come from the boy's own mouth, Obi-wan didn't believe that they were the truth. It was easy to see that his padawan was unable to forgive Obi-wan for the fight although he claimed to. For not always having his back when the chips were down and for his injury.
Thank you, was all the master could bring himself to say, his voice tightened by the tears he felt he couldn't shed. And then he left Anakin with what he wanted, loneliness.
Now Obi-wan stood, still a little unsteady on his own feet, and gathered the two items Anakin had requested that he bring. A pillow, that was almost in tatters, but was the one that Anakin had slept with since he was nine years old and a music box, which was Obi-wan's. It was the only thing that his real parents had given him, other then the life of a jedi. Although jedi were not allowed such frivolous possession, Obi-wan had managed to find the trinket when he was a padawan and had liberated it from it's captivity in a storage room of the Temple.
Anakin liked the music box and had listened to it during the night when he had nightmares as a child. It seemed to soothe him and when Anakin was older, Obi-wan heard the gentle tones of the music box many times during night indicating the boy's need of comfort. He wasn't sure what had weighed on Anakin's mind during those times, but the music box had seemed to quell any anxious feelings that the boy had been experiencing.
Rubbing his thumb absently over the deep carvings on the oval shaped top of the box, Obi-wan wished for a connection with his family. Anakin was all the family he really had and with the young boy hurting in such a way, it would've been nice to have a little advice from someone who cared so much about a son. Obi-wan grimaced at the thought.
You are too attached to the boy. Mace Windu's voice echoed through his head. I am not. He needs me. He needs me to make sure that the fire that rages in his soul, which we've both felt, doesn't consume the person that we know he can be. The Chosen One. He will not leave us in darkness.
Obi-wan didn't know how much he had believed the words that poured from his mouth on that day as he stood in front of the Korun master, but now he knew that Anakin was the savior that the jedi had been waiting for all these years. It was the amazing flair the boy had for skirting the rules, but still truly remaining a jedi. It was the balance that prophecy talked about, Obi-wan knew it deep in his heart. The other masters just hadn't realized it yet.
"Master Kenobi," the commlink in the apartment chirped. "MASTER KENOBI!"
Obi-wan raced from Anakin's room towards the comm station, noting the panic in the voice on the other end. He slapped the button hard with his hand.
"Yes?" he asked a little out of breath because running with such injuries was quite difficult, even if he was mostly healed.
"Medical wing NOW!" was all the other voice said before clicking off.
What had happened? Bile rose in his throat threatening to spill from his mouth as he thought about the panic on the other end of the commlink. Where was Anakin? Was he still alive? Reaching out through the force he felt for the boy. They had always had a bond like no other master and padawan. This wasn't just the normal training bond that most masters and padawans used, it was so much more. Living inside each other's minds and now all he could feel was blind rage. Rage directed at no one and everyone at one time. Anakin was in trouble.
