History class droned on. Anakin couldn't pay attention - he never could. He was too focused on the present and future to worry about the past. What the fuck did he care? It was the past, before he was even born, he couldn't do shit about it. History gave him fucking anxiety. He hated when he couldn't fix things.

"Mr. Skywalker?" Anakin's head shot up as he finally realized Mr. Lars had been calling his name. Anakin looked over at Ahsoka, who shrugged.

"Uh . . . the Alderaanian Inquisition?"

"Contrary to your obvious belief, Anakin, not everything in this class is based on the Alderaan Inquisition. That was our first lesson, which seems to be the only one you paid much attention to," said Mr. Lars. Students chuckled across the room at the teacher's good-natured humor. Anakin's ears went red, but thankfully they were hidden under his hair. He still noticed Aphra whispering to Savage in giggles, and his face reddened as well to match the ears.

"Maybe her attention is only for anything on how to be a real man?" Savage butted in, and a flash of anger rose in Anakin's chest. It must have shown on his face, because Ahsoka instantly looked alarmed.

"Maybe if you didn't put all the dick in your personality you wouldn't have to overcompensate so much," Anakin shot with a growl, causing Mr. Lars to clap his hands, a call for silence that Savage didn't pay attention to, standing up instantly from his desk, temper wild on his face.

"That's big fucking talk for someone who doesn't even have one," the quarterback growled menacingly.

Anakin wasn't really sure what happened after that. Everything turned an intense red. All he knew was that he didn't tolerate people being complete dickwads about his identity. Or what was in his pants. What fucking business was it of theirs?

He heard a distant exclamation, 'He's fucking crazy!', but that was it. Then he found himself on the floor, his face stinging horribly on one side, and his vision really was red, with blood.


He came home starving along with his black eye. While he'd gotten a full lunch before history class, he was always just so damn hungry. Shmi blamed it on growth spurts, yet Anakin was certain his body hated him. That always seemed to be the case.

He threw his backpack down and slipped his shoes off by the door, setting his skateboard down gently then proceeding to immediately take his binder off, letting himself relax more before he walked into the living room to talk to Shmi.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted her with a wince, trying to hide his injury and the fact that he was home early. Logically, he knew the school should have already called, but a guy could hope. Threepio meowed, jumping off the couch and striding to greet Anakin, rubbing himself in circles around his human's ankles. He nearly made Anakin fall on his face for the third time that day. Anakin had an inkling this time would have been more painful. Yeah, well. Love hurts, fucker.

"Oh, sweetie," Shmi said. She'd already stood up from her chair and rushed towards him as soon as he stepped into the livingroom. She was shorter than Anakin now, she had been since he was in seventh grade, but Anakin still felt safer in her embrace. She pulled back soon enough to inspect his eye. Anakin pulled away and landed on the couch with a groan.

"Your history teacher called," Shmi said while sitting down next to him. "What happened?"

"He didn't tell you?" Anakin asked sarcastically. Seeing the look upon Shmi's face, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Just...Savage Opress. Being himself, that's all. An A-crowd dick, and I told him so. He gets a little offended when you mention the size of his genitals," Anakin shrugged. His luck, Mr. Lars had gone Windu on him and had told Shmi what an awful asshole he really was.

"Mr. Lars mentioned you threw the first punch," Shmi prompted him gently.

"Yeah, well. I don't really remember. Everything kinda went red from my perspective as soon as he had something to say about what's in my pants," Anakin grumbled. Shmi ran a hand through his hair and sighed, and Anakin found himself resting his head over on her shoulder. He wanted to cry and just let Shmi hold him forever, but he didn't. I can't put anymore stress on her than I already do. He knew he was a problem.

"Parent teacher conferences are this Friday. I'll talk to Mr. Lars then. You're out of class for two days, and so is Savage," she said the other boy's name in disgust. "I'll see what I can do beyond that when I talk to your teacher, okay?" she asked.

"Okay," Anakin nodded, giving her a soft smile. Shmi smiled back and kissed the side of his head, which Anakin leaned into.

"Now, let me get you some ice for that."


Shmi had to go to work the next day.. Her art classes only met on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, but she worked part-time at the local rock climbing gym, and Anakin decided to go with her, hoping for once he wouldn't make a complete ass of himself.

"Can I have some shoes and chalk?"Anakin asked, leaning up against the front counter. Shmi's coworker, Feemor, raised an eyebrow at him and grunted in affirmation before getting said requests. He was a real chatty guy. Anakin liked him.

"Here you go," he mumbled, passing them over. Anakin nodded and went over to his mom as he got ready. Soon they were climbing together, and Anakin let out a sigh of relief. Business was slow today, and there were other workers there taking care of the few customers they had.

"Your father called."

Anakin nearly lost his grip on his handholds.

" What ?"

Shmi looked uncomfortable for a moment. Anakin just stared at her.

"He's in town. He wants … to have tea."

Anakin gaped.

"This … he's never even talked to me before, and he came all the way from the fucking Mid Lands to have a cuppa ?"

Shmi sighed as the telephone rang in the background.

"Isn't this the father who fucking … oh, I don't know, left you pregnant?"

"Qui-Gon and I made the decision to separate together," Shmi snapped in a rare show of anger. Anakin blinked, surprised, while Shmi took a deep breath.

"And why shoud I go see this uptight prick who has always ignored me?"

"Ani, he's your father. Just go see him tomorrow, please?"

"Tomorrow? What- what about you, aren't you coming?"he asked, his voice becoming significantly smaller.

"No, I … it's complicated. But I always hoped you two would meet someday."

"Is he dying or something?" Anakin scoffed. Shmi gave him a steady look. Anakin sighed.

"All right, I'll go."


The car shop was loud with the sound of rock music as Anakin arrived for his part-time shift that evening. Well, it wasn't really a job. He just helped out, and the owner, Hera Syndulla, let Obi-Wan's band practice. Obi-Wan didn't actually know that was the reason, but … well, Anakin liked working with cars anyway. He could use the cash, but … it made Obi-Wan smile.

"Hello. Talk louder, I've got a band rehearsing," Hera said as she answered the phone while Anakin walked past. He smiled as he watched Obi-Wan sing the last note. Obi-Wan's best friend, Garen Muln, did a guitar riff and some screaming.

"You've been listening to the sounds of So Uncivilized. Thanks for the tips."

"All right, stop yelling, Kanan, they're finished," Hera said off to the side. Obi-Wan came over, clapping Anakin on the back.

"Hey, that was really good. Garen's really been wailing,"Anakin smiled, not adding the descriptor of awfully. Garen gave him a peace sign from the side as he packed his guitar away.

"Thanks," Obi-Wan smiled, seeming genuinely uplifted by the half-ass compliment. Anakin gave him a mock punch on the shoulder, which Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at.

"Haven't you lost enough fights lately?"

"Last one doesnt count. It was basically two against one, since Savage is twice as big as me."

"I thought size didn't matter?" Obi-Wan questioned him cooly, tilting his head to one side.

"It doesn't. But also it does, sometimes. Shutup," Anakin scowled, feeling himself blush. Yep, making a real asshole of myself now, thanks Obi-Wan. At least he was used to it by now.

"Hello, Anakin," Hera said, apparently done with her chaotic phone conversation now.

"Uh, hey boss. So, what about the Stang?"he asked, eyes lighting up. They'd worked out what was the problem with his old piece of shit Mustang the night before last, but Hera had to order some parts. Anakin had been hopeful she'd find the good deals for him, he really needed somethng to come through for him.

"Four hundred."

Anakin's eyebrows raised up. He sighed. "Well. That's … that's typical. Love this week," he mumbled.

"I can see that," Hera said, gesturing to his black eye.

"It's fine," Anakin sighed, not wanting to make a spectacle "I'll...talk to my dad about it."

Obi-Wan looked confused, and frowned at him. Hera had raised an eyebrow as well.

"Okay then. We've got a new paint job, Kitster Banai wants his door painted the same color as the rest of his Jeep. Apparently there's a girl involved."

Anakin chuckled. Kitster had been his best friend in elementary school.

"Alright, boss."