Chapter 7

Obi-Wan first suspected that Anakin was cheating on him when he came home one day covered in sweat and breathing heavily with a large smile on his face. He claimed that he had been working on his newly assigned starfighter, lost track of time, and run all the way from the hangar to their quarters. But Obi-Wan suspected something else. There was a faint edge to his Force signature. Something he had only seen at certain times before now.

Obi-Wan told himself that it was only natural for the boy to seek out the company of another. He was a young man; he had needs. But that didn't go very far to consoling the ailing Master. He was starting to become lonely. Whenever he and Anakin talked, it was always about his treatments or his therapy or his state of being. Anakin fawned over him and made everything about his Master.

Anakin never spoke of what he did when he wasn't in his Master's company. And Obi-Wan interpreted this new emotional distance it as disappointment in Obi-Wan as a Master.

"So tell me about your new starfighter, Anakin," Obi-Wan prompted over dinner one evening-cafeteria food brought by a Padawan Anakin had charmed into service.

"I like it," Anakin replied between mouthfuls of food. "How was your physical therapy today?"

"Fine," Obi-Wan replied, just as evasively. "Have you flown it yet or just tinkered with it?" How could Anakin resist talking about the little improvements he made to every machine that came within his reach?

"I've flown it twice," Anakin told him as he wiped his mouth and pushed back from the table. "Let me get that plate for you, Master," he said as he bussed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, effectively removing him to a safe distance whereby talking would turn into shouting.

Obi-Wan sighed. He slowly rose out of his chair and moved to the couch. He ran his hand over his chin where stubble had begun to appear. He was most definitely growing his beard back, no matter what Anakin said.

When said Anakin entered the living area, Obi-Wan caught his eye. "I know where you've been, Padawan," he pronounced.

Anakin was all innocence. "What do you mean, Master? I was in the hangar like I said."

"But not all day, you weren't. I can feel your exhilaration, Anakin. I can tell you've been sparring." He didn't add 'with someone else' because they both knew that that was the true accusation.

The younger man didn't say anything. He was caught. He knew it. He should have come straight home to take care of his Master instead of stopping by the practice rooms. There, he had found Master Fisto and his Padawan. After watching for a few minutes, Anakin couldn't resist when they asked him to join. He had been itching to spar for days. He hadn't wanted to spar with someone else beside his own Master though.

"I'm sorry, Master. I know I should have come home to help you sooner. It's my responsibility to take care of you . . ." He would have said more, except a noise escaping from Obi-Wan stopped him.

"I do not need to be reminded of how I am burdening you, Padawan. But you will not lie to me-injuries or no," he scolded.

Anakin was all apologies. "No, no, Master, you are never a burden. It's my honor to take care of you and get you through this transition." His sickly sweet tone made Obi-Wan's stomach sour.

"An honor?" he questioned. "An honor to nursemaid me? An honor to watch over me like I'm some poor, hapless creature that might hurt himself? Well, you can keep your honor, Padawan. I am not a cause for you to champion." Obi-Wan's words were scathing, slicing right into Anakin's heart.

After a few minutes of pregnant silence, Obi-wan returned to his earlier accusation. "Was it fun, Anakin? Like it used to be for us?"

"Why are you asking me that, Master?"

"I'm curious how this experience stacks up to my instruction. How did you do?"

"I held my own," Anakin replied guardedly. In fact, he had bested Master Fisto's Padawan nearly immediately. And he had done well against the Master too.

"Held your own, eh?" Obi-Wan queried. "Speaking of, where is my lightsaber?" He hadn't even thought about the weapon since his injury. That fact sent chills up and down his spine. How could he so quickly forget something that he had held every day for over twenty years?

"It's-um, I'll get it for you, Master," Anakin stumbled over his words. To Obi-Wan's surprise, Anakin went to his own room. He returned with the saber cradled gently in both hands and offered it to his Master reverently.

"Why was it in your room?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin ducked his head. The truth was that he had actually been sleeping with it under his pillow. It helped him feel closer to Obi-Wan as his Master pushed him farther away with his mood swings. "I guess that's just where I put it when we got back from Geonosis, Master. I'm sorry I kept it from you," he replied.

"Well, it's not like I could use it anyway," Obi-Wan said derisively. "But it's good to feel it in my hands. Even if it does feel different." He knew that it wasn't the lightsaber that felt different but the hands currently caressing it like a long lost lover.

Now he regretted asking Anakin for it. All he could think about was how he had no idea when or if he'd ever be able to wield it again as a Jedi Knight. And his jealousy of his Padawan's youth, vigor, and ability to do everything by himself almost bent Obi-Wan double with pain. He scowled with his scarred mouth, scarred lips, scarred life.

Suddenly, he tossed his lightsaber casually onto the coffee table. It thunked as if protesting its shabby treatment. Anakin couldn't resist rescuing it from its unceremonious resting place. He cradled it in his arms and looked at his Master.

"Should I put it in your room?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said and hung his head. He just couldn't stand to see his apprentice looking at him as if he had gone mad—which Obi-Wan was pretty sure was happening.

As he delivered his Master's weapon to his room, finding a safe, but inconspicuous spot for it where Obi-Wan wouldn't have to look at it all the time, all Anakin could think about was the venom in Obi-Wan's voice. How could he see himself as a burden?

Anakin was at a loss of how best to help his Master. He was trying everything he could think of to show Obi-Wan that he could be a proper Padawan for him-obedient, calm, helpful. But his Master didn't seem to be himself at all anymore. He wasn't pleased by Anakin's actions. If anything, his work to be a better apprentice seemed to anger his Master.

When he returned from Obi-Wan's room, he began his explanations again, "I am sorry to make you angry . . . ," talking more to the floor than the person in the room.

"I'm not angry, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, angrily. He crossed his arms and looked away in the same way Anakin used to when he was pissed and Obi-Wan reprimanded him.

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied, determined to keep his cool.

Why isn't he popping off at me, Obi-Wan wondered. I guess I'm too easy a target now. To his apprentice he said, "I am going to bed. I will see you tomorrow."

All Anakin said was another "Yes, Master" as Obi-Wan let the door to his room slide closed.