"You can't expect me to be fine. I can't expect you to care." - Maroon 5
"Anakin,"
For a mere split second, Anakin's whole body shook at the insignificant sound of his companion's stern – and quite frankly annoyed – Coruscanti-accented voice speaking his name. A serge of pure fiery anxiety ran through each nerve, too quickly, too much all at once, like cold adrenaline stinging his veins.
But then he remembered.
He was completely fine and nothing such as panic ever hindered him. The moment of feeble fret that was terribly un-Jedi-like melted as quickly as it was brought on. Too late, he realized that the whole Resolute's command-room's eyes were all on him, then secondly, he fought the cowardly urge to hide from them all.
"Are you paying attention?" Obi-Wan looked clearly disgruntled at his former apprentice, not a hint of concern or worry leaking through his features. That was good, Anakin decided. Nothing on his face must have shown his true previous feelings of minor panic – nothing to worry about anyway, he mentally brushed off, trying to forget. That happened quite a lot lately, never seeming to work, he really should try harder.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Came his raspy voice in a reply, hoarse from the minor amount of speaking out loud anymore. His mentor eyed him for a moment more, thinking – judging, maybe, like the rest of the people in the room. This fazing-out thing – a new trait – was infrequent, but increasing, and it felt like everyone always noticed. He didn't even notice. The Force always seemed to get an added heaviness and unbalance when he fazed out, the only reason why the few other Jedi probably hated sensing the additional trepidation to that of just being in his presence; but to Anakin, the Force was never indifferent, never changing. He lived with the distress.
It was safe to say his absentmindedness was more than irritating to Obi-Wan by now, especially during briefings. Yet, Rex, Ahsoka, Yularen were silent – Anakin simply guessed they were too weirded-out to comment.
His Master's gaze trailed back to the holo-image displayed, running a hand over his beard to regain his disrupted thoughts. Anakin contritely watched Obi-Wan mentally push back the thick unease in the room from his own mind, a face he'd seen too much lately and not just on Obi-Wan. He wouldn't speak an atone though, no matter how shameful he felt about his inability to hold up the current mental-shields, and stop the dark webs that were his mind's emotions seep through, effecting the innocent, light souls around him. Such conversations about one's – his – drawbacks were better left unspoken right now.
"As I was saying, Anakin, we'll need you fast in case things go south whist the rest of us are inside the compound." Obi-Wan continued, mostly directing his words to the younger Jedi. Anakin knew most of the mission, at least, he'd been listening up until his brain decided to escape him... He wasn't that stoopa, just a little mindless. Their objective was to locate and free imprisoned clones on Ducoma – A Seperatist owned planet, mining world turned clone prisoner camp after the Seperatist invaded. It was a remote planet, barely populated before the invasion, and with no way to protect themselves, the Separatist conquered without resistance. Of course the Senate would have done something sooner, but there was little they could do once their intel told them the Seps had clone captives being used as human shields, protecting their complex with the endless number of prisoners they had captured.
It was Obi-Wan's job and his mens' job to rescue the prisoners of war, stealthily and without fail. They'd arrive in a cloaked ship, break in, free the clones, break out, call for the Resulote to finish off the place once everyone was safe and accounted for. Yet, since this assignment was completely furtive, their would be no backup, reinforcements, nothing.
Well, except Anakin... He was their pilot, the only one not advancing into the compound with the others. If things went wrong – which nowadays was the norm – he was their ticket out of Ducoma. Before Scipio, It'd be smarter to have Anakin in the prison with them, even lead the entire mission. But Obi-Wan and others wanted to ease himback into assignments before joining the fight entirely (a fancy way of saying they didn't trust him in battle yet).
A part of him didn't blame the Mind Healers or his Master, though. Not even he trusted himself – he could barely hold his weapon without shaking, could distantly remember the urge to harm himself with it. He couldn't have others depend on him, not when he couldn't depend on himself.
The other part insisted that he was fine, and was even typically angry that he was left alone on the ship, helpless. He wasn't a danger to himself – he was perfectly normal – but it's the others that would be in trouble. What if his own men died or his apprentice or his Master, while he sat pointlessly in the seat of a cot-pit? That would mean he would be the only one to make it out alive, and then it'd be Scipio all over again. Alone, alone, alone, his mental voice snarled. That part of him was angry because he was distressing over abandonment that hadn't even occurred. How dare they leave him? He didn't fear his own death, but others' deaths for his own sake... well... It was selfish, but the dead were not alive and living was agony.
Obi-Wan finished saying whatever he was saying that Anakin had already tuned out from. He cursed himself for not focusing again, and put his mentor's words into sentences his brain could process. That weird, un-understanding when it came to speaking basic words seemed to happen frequently – a new added problem for the record that made up Anakin Skywalker. It's why he doesn't do a lot of speaking himself, or tried to read reports unless he has to. He knows it's from the lack of sleep, but the odd thing is, never sleeping before wasn't ever unusual or consequential. Somewhere in his conscience he realized he should probably ask himself when was the last time he slept, but the ability to care eluded him.
The feeling of a warm, gentle hand brush his shoulder, and with startling alertness, Anakin turned his head so quickly it made him dizzy. The alarm bells in his head only quieted once Obi-Wan's blurred face became clearer, and he could at least regain his breath that he didn't realize was irregular.
"Sorry... again." Anakin mumbled, shaking his head and the unreasonable brought on panic away. He let his head hang low, bracing both hands on the display table – his frequent withdrawals from the panic-induced adrenaline made him feel drained, and more so ashamed that the uncharacteristic jumpiness happened too many times to count in this morning alone.
From what he saw out of the corner of his eyes, everyone else was gone, so himself and Obi-Wan were totally alone. He didn't know why he felt cast aside – like the others had ditched him, and his Master was stuck with the burden of helping the broken Jedi once again.
"You're not broken, Anakin." Obi-Wan told him, much softer than Anakin actually expected – unexpected words, too, considering the younger Jedi didn't even speak aloud. "You're shields are weakening." His mentor commented, informatively, at that, because Anakin hadn't realized. He honestly didn't care, though Obi-Wan seemed to. He didn't get why his mentor was so concerned about his inability to conceal his thoughts. Maybe Obi-Wan was just so tired and sick of all the darkness and cloudiness that polluted Anakin's mind. Maybe he was going to leave the room, as well. Maybe he was the last person to walk away. If that was the case, if that reality was the future, Anakin decided he did care.
"I-I... Master, please. I'm Sorry." He didn't stop to realize it was the third time he said that.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan spoke again, more sternly, but not lacking concern. He was concerned? "Are you alright?" Apparently so. He'd heard those words a lot, so he wasn't sure why he was surprised. Maybe this time they actually held meaning, maybe it wasn't a customary question – with an evasive, repetitive answer, too.
"I think so?" He shrugged instead. "I'm fine for the battle – mission – whatever..." He added bitterly, once realizing that Obi-Wan probably wanted reassurance from his dear, unstable, mentally-absent friend to make sure the one piloting them all wouldn't fly straight into a star or lose control of everything.
Anakin screwed up his face. It may have been a month since he last jumped into a cot-pit, but he wasn't incapacitated, for kriff's sake.
Obi-Wan just sighed, shaking his head. Probably looking down just as annoyed as Anakin felt. But, he stoped himself from biting back further, letting the thoughts of self-consciousness sink deeper from the surface level. Once Anakin realized Obi-Wan might do a totally frustrated move and walk out (something Anakin would've done) – no matter how uncharacteristic of a thing to do for the Jedi Master – Anakin's stomach dropped and he regretted brushing his Master off. He couldn't be alone, not again, not when the battle hasn't even begun, not ever. If Obi-Wan stormed away, Anakin would have no one – not that he really had anyone before – but the physical presence of his Master was soothing. He would be lost without their bond, and the merry-go-round of all his darkly thoughts would be the only thing left. Insanity, he remembered distantly. All brought on because Obi-Wan made the choice to walk out.
No matter how illogical and unrealistic it was, Anakin's brain convinced itself it was true.
"I'm not going anywhere, Anakin." Obi-Wan furrowed his eyebrows, studying Anakin with newfound knowledge from the other Jedi's vibrant, leaking shields. He was more than a little concerned now. From the fragments of information he was receiving, – the distress, the unreliability of others, the certainty of a fake reality unknown to arise – melancholy memories of a dismayed (and then soon sedated) Anakin writhing on a medical bed, half awake, half asleep, trapped in some sort of relapse till unconsciousness took over filled his mind. Time had clearly passed since those first weeks since Scipio, but in that very moment it didn't seem like anything had changed at all. "I am sorry for snapping at you during the briefing." He said with sympathy that the... old Anakin wouldn't have appreciated. The Anakin that was here today... well he was simply too distracted and distanced to care if others pitied him – it was the fear of desertion that was what mattered. He dipped into the Force just a bit, getting a read on the other Jedi's signature that was slowly re-blocking itself. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Uh, I don't know..." Anakin mumbled, knowing where this conversation would lead: useless advice to see the Healers if he told the truth or some lecture on letting go of emotions through the Force if he lied or stayed silent. Though Obi-Wan probably didn't realize any of that himself yet. Sometimes the man was just too much of a Jedi to be a friend, and in Anakin Skywalker's book, one was either one or the other – there were no shades of gray. "I'm just... I feel okay, I think, I'm not sure. But I'm alright to go back out there." He even tried to smile, not thinking about anything else, because thinking led to thoughts, and thoughts led to too many bad scenarios his brain could comprehend. "You'll be okay, though?" He added, deliberately changing the subject, careful not to sound too desperate for reassurance.
"Yes, I'm sure myself, Rex, Ahsoka and all the others will be fine." Obi-Wan smiled, too. Wether it was forced or not, he didn't know. but it still was comforting, just a bit.
Ahsoka waited apprehensively, leaning against her starfighter that she knew she wasn't going to need for this mission. Anakin didn't ignore the way she tampered with the things on it that didn't need fixing, or counted supplies and weaponry nervously, calculating down the time until they'd have to leave. He'd never seen her anxious before, but he mused he wasn't the only one that had changed negatively through – not only the last month, but – the war entirely. Honestly, he hadn't seen much of her at all.
There was a blank spot in his memory where everything seemed to be blocked off, but the memories that lay behind the thickness were almost touchable. Moments of the previous weeks, days even, the sleepless last before night were basically gone. It didn't scare him as much as it should, but when he started to remember things he wasn't sure were real or not, it was extremely confusing... Like, last night, he recalled Ahsoka, briefly, looking at him like she'd seen a ghost, but now his brain couldn't decide if that recollection truely happened. He couldn't concretely say if he went into her quarters or deny that fact either, the same way he was unsure if he consciously picked up his own 'saber in his hands that seemed too steady to be his own. The sensations were almost dreamlike, or well, as dreamlike as one could get without actually sleeping, of course.
"Hey, Snips." He chirped, though it didn't sound quite as jovial as it did in his mind.
She tensed, not noticing her Master's presence through the cold cloudiness that made up the Force, and wrapped an arm around herself when she faced him.
"Oh. Hi, Master." Anakin noticed she hesitated before greeting him back. Oookay, things were... unstable with their friendship, right now at least, but they weren't this bad. Hmmm... maybe they were, the duo hadn't talked in a while. "I'm just prepping. I'm glad to be back on the field – finally." Neither brought up the reason why they hadn't been deployed anywhere sooner.
"Me too."
Silence.
Ahsoka scuffed her feet along the ground of the Resolute's hangar bay, feeling the tension gather heavily in the air. Anakin saw something behind her features unidentifiable, unable to tell what she was thinking – not that he was going to search inside her mind, anyway.
"Why did you come to me, like at 0300 hours or something?"
More unsettling silence followed, with Anakin's puzzled features indicating he had no idea of what she was talking about. "What?"
"Last night, Skyguy." She said exasperatedly, drawing out 'Skyguy'. The nickname didn't sound lighthearted. 'Almost mockingly' was a better way to describe her voice. "You started talking to me, acting totally out-of-it. You're telling me you don't remember?"
He tried matching up the uncertain, fuzzy memories of Ahsoka's startled face to connect with reality, but it never happened. The maybe real, maybe not images stayed only distant fragments. But he didn't disbelieve her, either. A part of his mind was calling him to believe this moment was the reality she was talking about.
"Uh... I don't– What happened?"
"You nearly pulled your lightsaber on me, that's what happened." She told him, clearly displeased, but the thought of him doing something like that made the invisible alarm inside his head go off again. She left their shared quarters because she was scared, she looked ghostly last night because she was scared, he was alone now today because she was scared. And he was scared of himself, too.
His face must have betrayed his mind, since Ahsoka was quick to rephrase her words. "No – I mean, it wasn't you. I think you were just sleepwalking or whatever." That didn't make him feel any better, because he knew it wasn't true. Sleepwalking required sleep, and Anakin Skywalker never slept. "Probably 'cause the meds the healers give you."
"Mm..."
"Hey, um, listen. I'm sorry I haven't really... I don't know, been there." She sounded sincere, sorry; though he didn't deserve any of it. The mere picture of her face looking at him with fear, and the feel of his weapon in his hands haunted him. He was haunted by something he couldn't even remember. "Master, I wanted to help. I wanted for things to be okay again, but I didn't know how or what to do. It all changed so... kriffing quickly. And I wasn't strong enough..." She was talking about Scipio, his recovery, the nightmares. And that's when Anakin forced himself to remember Padmé was Ahsoka's friend, too. And Anakin was her's. They all lost something.
For the first time in ages, he saw a glimpse of what the past used to look like. It was good and warm and nice, but unacceptable.
"Neither was I."
A/N
Uuuhhhh I don't like this chapter. It's real bad. Writers block is real right now. I had no idea what I was talking about. Annndd school started back up again, so that's g8...
OML I actually watched Spilt now, and honestly I thought it was shit xD I still like the idea behind it, but I did not enjoy the movie in general... x(
Feedback is most appreciated:D PLZ I need your thoughts on this. ALSO, I know I haven't gotten far at all into the real issues (yet ;) ) but if I get something wrong, or you would like to share information, please do. I'll reply to all! I'm getting my info about DID (which will become more of a theme in the next chapters) from the internet, so bare with me xD My parents are also physiology teachers, so hey, maybe I got another source, too(?)
May the Force be with you
-CyanGalaxy
