Notes: Hello, thanks for being patient and tolerating me with my slow updates. Again big shout out to Evernoor for being my beta!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or their characters.

Spoilers: If you haven't seen Star Wars the Clone Wars, then run. If you haven't heard if Star wars then run. And just run.

Chapter 4

In and Out

Running, and Falling

Drowing, in sorrow

Suffering and running

You can't run forever, you know?

CC-2224, nicknamed Cody, was assigned to High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi in the beginning of the war. Back then, he was just another clone, but through time and blood Cody forged himself a life of comrade and brotherhood with the Jedi. He knew how they were with their emotions, how their body language screamed to stay away, even in between padawans and Masters. So every clone learned to give Jedi their space.

And indeed he learned. Because he became the leader of the 7th Sky Corps, a duty he served well, though he typically took personal command of the 212th; Cody was a loyal and competent soldier who always followed his orders. He was a no-nonsense commander who was very skilled in tactics. Well, he told himself that most days to keep his head in the game, but he knew something was off the moment they entered the atmosphere.

Their Generals, the Jedi, were always a good thing to have around. Their Force abilities made the difference between life or death in some situations. So from the tales of other clones and his own experiences, they had their own motto regarding the Jedi: "Just roll with it."

Because somehow, something would happen and their Jedi generals would do something crazy and they just had to roll with it. Because they had no other option, and they trusted their Jedi Generals with the highest regard. So he just "rolled with it" when his General jumped away, with so much fear on his eyes. Away from his own troops, his own men, to bleed to death, rather than be near them.

So, yes, he rolled with it, when his Jedi General started to twitch and seeing and fearing his own troops. He was loyal to the Republic, but there was always something special about the connection between Jedi and their troops. Because they depended on each other during battle and that trust was special.

So yes, he rolled with it when the heartbeat of the General stopped. He rolled with it when he was holding back General Skywalker from busting in the medical room. He rolled with it when his General looked so lost, confused, and everything that the General never looked like.

So he rolled with it.

Obi-Wan relaxed into the his seat, letting the familiar Force wash over him and sooth away any lingering stress. It was clean, untouched, and it didn't hold the echoes of the screams of dying Jedi. It didn't matter where he was or what time he was in—he would always find comfort in the Force.

Obi-Wan cast a glance out the window; the sun had disappeared behind the horizon not too long ago, leaving the entire world beyond the temple blanketed in darkness. The lights from the streets and people were the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. Gathering his thoughts, Obi-Wan finally came to a decision: neither the Council or nor anyone else could where and when he came from.

He had debated himself for hours already. The fewer people he had to explain his actions to, the better. Obi-Wan still wasn't sure what he would tell Anakin, but there was no way he would allow him to follow the same path he had before, even if Palpatine had been working at it since Anakin was nine. But Obi-Wan did have to record his story, or tell someone of it. Because if he died then no one would know and everything would perish.

He couldn't let it happen.

So he took a breath, releasing his negative emotions to the Force. It was quiet for the moment; even the normal sounds of nature seemed reluctant to break the unnatural hush. Obi-Wan shifted his attention out the window, showing the lights across the planet.

The lights seemed to dim somewhat, as if reflecting his pensive mood, and he allowed himself to relax into the light of the Force. He needed to tell someone, someone in the order, in the Council. But who? Maybe Mace: he knew combat, he knew the ever-present temptation of the Dark Side and always came back stronger and triumphed. But Obi-Wan also knew Mace held some resentment towards Anakin.

He would not let them blame Anakin for something he hadn't done, not in this time.

So, that left the difficult decision of who to choose. Maybe Master Plo? Or Yoda? Thoughts were making his head spin. He wanted to make sure this opportunity wasn't to be wasted, that Anakin wouldn't fall, that they survived this war. Because last time there was too many deaths, too much blood, far too much—

Breathe, in and out. In and out.

His head was stuffed with white noise, and he could feel his clothes slick with sweat. His limbs trembled as his lungs tried to overcome a sudden shortness of breath. A choking sensation, like those described by the people aboard the Executor. The phantom chest pain, and the nausea, and dizziness, he feared he was losing his mind. He could feel the taunting sensation, in the back of his mind, that feeling that danger was nearby.

In and out.

Like his Master told him. Except his Master was dead. Like everyone else. Dead like—

"Breathe, padawan. In and out. Don't overthink it." Sixteen year-old Obi-Wan startled as his Master puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder—

Obi-Wan shuddered as he stumble and fell into the 'fresher. He couldn't stop the bile that burned through his throat and nose. He wanted to stop shaking, and feeling so hot and cold. Everything was too confusing for him to even notice the beeping on his stand. Even after a few minutes- or hours?- he finally cleaned himself off the floor.

He didn't know what to do. Did he kill Palpatine? Reveal that he's the Sith Lord, without evidence? How would he show that Palpatine had played both sides even from the beginning? Too many questions and too many gaps. He lay on the floor, too tired and confused to get into the bed a few inches away.

Someone else would know what to do. He couldn't do this. He wasn't particularly keen on dying this time—not even really sure how he could navigate through this madness—but he knew the chance to change events was too important, even if it required him to give up his own life once more. If they could stop the war, the Sith from gaining a foothold on the galaxy once more, then Obi-Wan could end up saving millions of people. Really, there was no decision. But he couldn't make that decision dictated by fear.

He didn't remember closing his eyes, or the darkness that soon followed. He remembered the nightmares afterwards.

There's blood, and the screaming is back again.

"How come I'm the one getting caught all the time?"

The younglings— oh gods, the younglings are screaming and they're—

" You're a Jedi? Nice to meet you!"

They're were so young, and the clones— their brothers, their comrades.

Then, there was Anakin, and he was—

"Oh, c'mon, Obi-Wan, Snips and I could've handled it!"

And the Empire was taking their place, and Padme—

"I love you."

And Anakin had Sith eyes, fire behind them, and their was blood on both of their hands—

"I hate you!"

Then there was a young boy, bright eye and sounding so young—

"He claims to be the property of an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Is he a relative of yours?"

Luke Skywalker. Hope and future for the Galaxy, for the Jedi.

"I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father."

Oh, he was so young, too young and naive. Too much like his father.

"We meet again, at last. The circle is now complete."

Darth Vader and there was so many dead bodies.

"Why didn't you tell me that Darth Vader was my father?"

He was so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Forgive me—

And Obi-wan woke up screaming.

He was weak, so weak. He had lost everything; there was nothing. Only heat and blood, pain and grief. Perhaps losing his life was just closure. Obi-Wan, the old hermit of the desert, the Wizard of the Jundland Wastes, didn't know things such as closure.

The pain recoiled and he could breath again. His throat burned at the acid taste of vomit. A reminder of failure. Because Obi-Wan didn't hold any illusions of himself, he knew that he needed help— both physically and mentally— and the heavy load of guilt wasn't to be carried alone. Because no one was really innocent: the clones, the Jedi, the civilians. No one was safe. Yet they held the umbrella of illusions and half-told lies, in hopes that everything would be better again.

In his youth, Obi-Wan too held that umbrella upwards, but life cruelly snatched it away with his Master's death. He learned the lesson of ignorance. How blissfully sweet it could be and how brutal everything came when it is gone. Like with the Sith. Always hiding, and always planning and plotting. Like himself now, really. He wonders what came to Luke after—

"Master? Are you there?" The knocking finally registered into his ears. The sun was warm in his face, odd that he doesn't remember—

"Master? We'll be late!" Anakin. Anakin was at the door, and they would be late?

"I-I'm getting ready, wait a second!" Obi-Wan yelled, or tried to, over the closed door. He pulled himself off the floor and opened the door to the refresher. The odd face of Obi-Wan Kenobi in the mirror showed how pale and red his eyes were. Hastily, he splashed water into his face and pulled his vomit and sweat-soaked robes away, sick with smell. The new robes, fresh and clean, were tucked neatly in the small closet. And now he stood in front of the door that was the only physical divider of the world and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He could sense the growing impatience and uneasiness of his old padawan beyond the door. He has to show some mercy. Before Anakin could knock again, Obi-Wan opened the door to reveal himself.

"Wow, you look terrible," Because of course that's what Anakin would say at the first opportunity that he saw him. Obi-Wan gave him a glare without the heat behind it. But it was enough to shut him up. Obi-Wan thought that he had made for quite quite sight, he admitted to himself. Considering how much of a mess he is right now.

"Yes, I am well aware of that, Anakin. But if we don't leave now, we'll be late."

Anakin gave him the strange look that he knew that Obi-Wan hated. But he couldn't bring himself to care as they walked forwards. Anakin projected his emotions and thoughts so loud into the Force. Obi-Wan wondered how he was going to survive this. He shielded himself from the hurricane of emotions that Anakin practically screamed to the universe. Could the younglings can hear them?

"Master?" The uncertainty of his former padawan's voice brought him out of his musing, and Obi-Wan finally noticed they almost passed the door to the Council. Stupid, stupid-

"Sorry, I'm just very tired right now." He struggled to put the wild emotions begin the walls that kept him safe for so long from Vader and the Emperor, a lifetime ago. Like Luke, and Leia, and the smuggler who too changed everything, and-

In and out. Breate. Just... breathe.

Pushing aside the thoughts and emotions, wiping away any trace of the tragedy that followed him, Obi-Wan opened the doors and entered the Council chamber, Anakin following his steps. Not all chairs were filled; blue-tinted holos flickering in and out from the distance that they were. He struggled to clear his mind, because behind his walls a voice screamed out, You're alive! You're alive!

"Master Kenobi, are you well enough to give your report?" Mace Windu inquired with his characteristic blunt kindness. Obi-Wan never saw the body of course, but heard from Yoda. Killed from electricity and the Fall. He was one of the few he knew he could tell, but then he was dead, and everything was burning—

"Of course." Lying through his teeth was something that became a second nature, trying to survive in a bloodthirsty Tatooine taught him that. But Master Yoda, sitting the chair, only hummed. If he knew that he was lying, it shamed him a bit.

"Report then, Master Kenobi."

And Obi-Wan launched himself to explain all the details he could remember of the mission. To deliver support on a back-water planet when they were ambushed. Simply then, the mission went downhill. They managed to escape whole, until the attack bomb that hit Obi-Wan. Since then he couldn't piece together what he remembered.

But when Obi-wan saw a shift in Mace's eye he knew he was in trouble. Please don't ask, please don't ask, please—

"Master Kenobi, Skywalker reported something interesting while you were in Med Bay." The others too were shifting their stance, and Anakin seemed empathetic through their bond. "That after you were hit, you were convinced that your own troops were a threat and later on a medically-induced coma, your control over the Force seemed to... loosen."

If he meant that Obi-Wan destroyed the equipment and the droids, then Mace was being extremely nice today.

"Then you ran away from the Healing Ward-"

Well, calling escaping "running away" then sure he did. No one knew what Master Che could do to him when he was sleeping. He saw the humor in the eyes of the Council, and dammit he heard that.

"Yes, I was to apologise but sadly didn't have the time to do so. And for the matter of the clones, I was... unaware of my actions and believed myself to be in danger." Even though his word about the clones were true (from a certain point of view), Obi-Wan felt Anakin's frown even under the eyes of the Council. But the expression apparently went unnoticed by the rest.

"Very well then, Master Kenobi. And next time try not to run away from the Healers."

Obi-Wan thought this was too easy. As they dismissed him, Yoda stood up.

"Rest, you will. Talk later we shall."

Obi-Wan bowed, and Anakin and he stepped out as one. It was a lifetime ago when he would be somewhat curious to why they wouldn't call him out on the details. But this Obi-Wan, Ben the Hermit, would turn around and run away as fast as possible. But this was neither Ben, or Obi-Wan. This was a new breed of both. He wasn't running, he wasn't hiding, but he wasn't confronting the issue head-on either.

Releasing a shaky breath, Anakin like the bright sun that he was, stopped in front of him with a grim face. "Master? Please, I'm been calling you for like hours. Are you okay?"

He blinked, because was Anakin this... concerned when he was younger? If so, where did that man went to when Darth Vader rose? No clear answer, Obi-Wan would not let it happen. Not again.

"No, I'm not, Anakin, but I will be. I just need some time. But I'll be alright soon." Admitting it aloud came more easy to his tongue than he thought, but Anakin's expression of pure disbelief and shock made him laugh a little. When was the last time he laughed since coming here?

"Are you sure? I mean, I could like walk you back or something."

Obi-Wan smiled fondly, because by the Force, where did this man come from?

"I'm fine for now. I'll be in my room." He knew that he should stay, talk to his padawan, try to make him understand. But the turmoil that he had kept under control for the Council was getting more restless and dangerous. There was time, he hoped. But when he arrived back to his quarters, he broke down crying again.

He did that so much these days, mourning and crying for what they have yet to lose. But he was here, and now. There was no Luke, no Leia, no Darth Vader. Just the Jedi and their blind ways. Because somehow he had a chance while the rest were still in their graves, faces ash, and many died so he could be here, crying on the floor. But he couldn't get up, because they were alive.

Whole, and blind, but alive. Alive, and he, in his pathetic state will save them.