Please be advised of the following (contains spoilers): major character death, heavy angst, cancer, descriptions of illness and symptoms including dementia. For a complete list of tags, see this work on A03.
Many thanks to Maeve_Pendergast for crying with me and providing advice & patience.
For fic updates/requests, fanart, etc I'm now on Tumblr as happygiraffe!
"Does everything go away?"
Yeah, everything goes away.
But I'm gonna be here 'til forever
So just call when you're around.
- "Always Gold" by Radical Face
i. Anakin
Padawan Anakin Skywalker tilts onto the back legs of his desk chair. He runs his fingers along the beads woven into his braid, wondering if it will feel strange not to have them constantly resting on his shoulder. He is ready for tomorrow – he has been itching to take the Trials of Knighthood for some time now and he is confident in his skills. He wonders why he feels more nauseous than excited.
The summer heat is so oppressive that Anakin's pretty sure the droplets on his window are condensation rather than rain. It inevitably dredges up memories of that first summer, when his braid hadn't yet been long enough to touch his shoulder. That year the heat and humidity on Coruscant had upset the automated climate system and broken multiple records, but Anakin doesn't recall the specifics of them. Instead, its sweltering afternoons and smoggy sunsets are set down in his memory as the summer that Obi-Wan got sick.
Obi-Wan had never lied about it, Anakin was quite sure of that. But he had a way of twisting his true words to deliberately make Anakin believe something untrue. He'd cited headaches or late nights or errands he had to run, and at the beginning Anakin had no reason to doubt him.
At least, not until the day he got out of lessons early and came home to the muffled sound of retching coming from the refresher. Within Obi-Wan sat crumpled against the wall, vomit all down his chin.
"Master?" Anakin squeaked.
Obi-Wan startled and something flashed in his eyes that made Anakin's blood run cold. It was gone in an instant as Obi-Wan regained control of his mental shields. "'m fine," he panted before Anakin could ask. He hastily sat forward and wiped at his mouth with a handkerchief as it that would convince Anakin it was true. "Just get out."
"Are you—"
"You don't need to be concerned," said Obi-Wan, his hand drifting absentmindedly towards his pocket. Obi-Wan always reached into his pocket before he told a not-quite-lie. He had a special pocket sewn into each of his robes to hold his shiny black river stone, the one that Master Qui-Gon had given him for his thirteenth birthday. "It's usually not like this, I...um, the healers had me try a new kind of medicine today, and we're still finding the right balance."
"Master, why—"
Although Anakin was only ten, he had spent enough years repairing strange travelers' ships to sense when someone didn't want to answer questions. He bit his tongue.
"It is nothing, Anakin," Obi-Wan practically snarled. "There is nothing you need to worry about. Just…go start your homework."
Anakin still stood frozen like a startled tauntaun.
"Please." Obi-Wan looked like he was making an effort not to puke again. Anakin scurried from the doorway. Sure enough, the retching continued as soon as he was out of sight.
It was too hard to concentrate on homework. It occurred to him that Obi-Wan had not been expecting him back so early, that he'd thought he had time to clean up before Anakin got home. He'd never known his master to hide things from him before. That was the first night Anakin spent examining the ceiling, confused by the tightly wound worries swirling in his stomach. It wouldn't be the last.
After that, Anakin started to notice things that had seemed insignificant before. Impromptu naps and unexplained bruises, and a handful of painkillers Obi-Wan choked down before training that Anakin wasn't supposed to see. How often he had to sit down during 'saber class, or skipped it altogether and sent Anakin off to train with Master Tachi and her padawan Ferus.
The more Obi-Wan avoided it the more it felt taboo, like something so scary they weren't allowed to talk about it. He began to fall behind in lessons, but his teachers responded with fake smiles instead of reprimands. The summer weeks waned into autumn, and Anakin still had more questions than answers.
"Anakin, has Obi-Wan talked to you about Werrn?" Master Tachi asked cheerfully after another 'saber class where Obi-Wan was mysteriously absent.
"Sort of." Anakin and Ferus's group had a training mission coming up in two days. Anakin had never been on one before, but he couldn't bring himself to get excited about it.
"You're going to spend the weekend with Ferus and I. We'll meet you in the hangar that morning. 0700, okay?"
"Yeah, I know," mumbled Anakin, knowing he was being rude. Obi-Wan had already explained that he would not be accompanying Anakin to Werrn, even though everybody else's master was going and it wasn't fair. They reached the corridor where their paths diverged. "Thanks, Master Tachi."
Anakin let himself in. At first he didn't think anyone was home, but he soon found Obi-Wan asleep on the 'fresher floor.
"Master, are you okay?" asked Anakin, attempting to shake him awake.
"Jus' leave me alone," Obi-Wan groaned, unwilling or unable to hold a conversation beyond that.
When it grew late Anakin fixed himself a sandwich for supper and placed a blanket around Obi-Wan's shoulders before he put himself to bed. He didn't even try to sleep.
A whispered conversation halted abruptly when Anakin emerged for breakfast.
"Good morning, Anakin," said Master Bant, who was sitting at the table with Obi-Wan while the latter picked at his food. Obi-Wan's face was red where he had obviously tried to rub away the tile marks from the floor.
Bant pointed him towards a bowl and spoon set on the table for him. He poured his cereal, waiting to see if the adults would resume what they were talking about. They chatted lamely about the 'saber class Bant was preparing for next rotation until Anakin had eaten and left.
He told himself he wasn't intending to eavesdrop as he gathered his lesson books, but it was a little too easy.
"It's just a training mission—"
"His first," Obi-Wan counters.
Bant sounded exasperated. "Maybe you'll get to go on the next one, Obi."
"Maybe!" Obi-Wan huffed. Anakin paused to listen harder. "Bant, nothing is normal right now, and I have no kriffing idea if it ever will be again. I just want to keep my life together as much as I can!"
"I'm sorry, but I think Che has a point," said Bant. "It might be a good distraction for Anakin too; you both look like you've been trampled by bantha lately."
There was a strained pause. "I'm trying," Obi-Wan whispered.
"I'm sorry, Obi. I'm sure you'll go on the next one."
Anakin slipped out the door without saying a word.
The image of his master passed out on the cold tile floor followed Anakin all through his classes. He thought about it as he ate, as he trained, as he packed his things for the departure the next morning. He thought about it as he lay on his back, begging and bargaining with the Force to get to sleep that night.
Anakin's head pounded and his eyes were so tired they stung. It was no use. The ball of worry in his stomach felt like it was eating him from the inside. Timidly he crawled out from under the covers and padded into Obi-Wan's room. The bed creaked as Anakin climbed up.
To his surprise, Obi-Wan was awake too. "Anakin?" he whispered hoarsely as he reached for the light.
Without waiting to be invited, Anakin curled up close against Obi-Wan's chest. Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around him in his slightly awkward way, as he often did when Anakin initiated more physical contact than he thought was proper. Now was Anakin's chance to ask all the questions that had been keeping him awake but he found it was too comfortable like this, letting Obi-Wan just hold him and saying nothing.
"Force," Obi-Wan sighed under his breath. There was a long pause. "I'm sorry about the trip, Anakin. And I'm sorry I haven't been paying more attention to you lately."
"It's not that," said Anakin.
"Then what?"
Anakin hid his face in Obi-Wan's tunic and mumbled.
"Anakin,"
"You'll be upset," Anakin said into the fabric. "You always say that it's...it's not for me to worry about, but I can't help it."
"What?" asked Obi-Wan.
Anakin reached out to touch the bacta plaster that barely covered a thumbprint-sized bruise on the inside of Obi-Wan's elbow.
"You're worried about me?"
Anakin nodded. Obi-Wan inhaled, then exhaled carefully. "There's no need, I am fine. And I'm not upset. I never meant for you to think you weren't allowed to feel what you're feeling."
"But…next week…"
"Anakin, it's my job to take care of you, not the other way 'round. Your job is to learn and enjoy your trip."
Anakin held Obi-Wan tighter. "I can't stop thinking about it."
Obi-Wan cupped Anakin's face with one hand and filled the Force around their yet-immature training bond with all the warmth and calm he could conjure up. Anakin accepted the energy and felt his anxiety melt away, relief weighing heavy on his tired eyes.
"Give your worries to the Force, little one," Obi-Wan murmured. He flicked the light off again with a wave of his hand while Anakin yawned, still using his arm as a pillow. "It will guide us both, one way or another."
For the first few hours, Anakin slept more soundly than he had in ages. But when he woke, the horizon was still dark and the warmth in the Force was gone. He realized to his annoyance that Obi-Wan had once again ducked out of giving him a proper explanation.
Anakin's senses warned him that something was about to happen moments before Obi-Wan's fingers violently grabbed a handful of the sheets.
Anakin sat bolt upright. Every muscle in his master's jaw was rigid and the grinding of teeth could be heard. He braced against the pillows with his hands trembling out of control.
"What's wrong?" Anakin blurted out. "Master, wake up!"
He grabbed one of Obi-Wan's hands but it continued to tremor, jerking Anakin's whole arm with it. Anakin tried poking him and yelling and even shaking him by the shoulders a little, to no avail. "Stop it!" he demanded. "Master, stop!"
It finally occurred to Anakin that he should call for help. Obi-Wan had written a list of important codes next to the comm unit for him when he explained how to use it. Anakin punched in the one for the healer's wing.
By the time someone picked up, Anakin was in hysterics. The female voice on the other end patiently wheedled the details out of him. "I need you to stay calm. Make sure he's breathing and hasn't got anything in his mouth."
Anakin was having a hard time listening. His brain was running at breakneck speed, and not in the good way like when he's sparring or flying.
"Padawan?" the voice from the comm pressed. "If there's any furniture or hazards near his head, try to—"
Obi-Wan went completely limp, limbs slack and head slumped against his shoulder. Anakin let the comm fall to the floor.
After a long minute of Anakin listening to his own heartbeat in his ears, Obi-Wan's eyes opened halfway.
"Master?"
Obi-Wan groaned and tried unsuccessfully to lift his head.
There was an urgent knock at the door. No sooner had Anakin palmed it open than three healers and a hoverstretcher clamored into the apartment. They spoke to one another in terms Anakin didn't understand. One shone a penlight in Obi-Wan's eyes while another took his blood pressure.
A healer nearly tripped over Anakin and scolded him for being underfoot, so the padawan retreated to the far corner of the bedroom. Obi-Wan looked awake but was still unable to speak as they lifted him onto the stretcher. Anakin tried to follow them out the door, but the healers forbade it. Then, as quickly as it all began, Anakin was alone with only the sound of nocturnal traffic drifting in from the window.
Morning came, and somehow Obi-Wan was both prepared for and utterly blindsided by what it brought.
More to come soon, thank you for reading. This work was a long time in the making & is close to my heart. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you thought!