my apologies for the year long wait. no promises as to when the next chapter shall appear, but my goal is by february.
The second day after Obi-Wan wakes, the mask is gone. Obi-Wan tells Anakin that it is because Sidious wants to see Obi-Wan's face as he strips him of any lies Obi-Wan has been told. He snarls while saying that, more outwardly than in; Anakin doesn't blame him: even just thinking about Sidious—the bastard—ignites his fury; when Anakin sees Obi-Wan's face after the fourth day, his fury is fueled. Especially when Obi-Wan doesn't protest as Anakin helps him into a sitting position against the back wall of their dank and dark and rotten cell. Obi-Wan always protests any help Anakin has to offer.
Anakin has never seen Obi-Wan break—not even after Rattatak, not even after the Jedi massacre and the assassination of those four younglings. But the way he leans his head into his hands—so exhausted and just looking ready to give up—it's unnerving.
"…Obi-Wan…Master?"
"Anakin." He still doesn't look up. The tremors in the Force and in his shoulders suggest he may be crying, but Anakin's not too sure: Obi-Wan's voice is calm and steady, no different than it's ever been. And besides, he never cries.
Anakin settles himself next to Obi-Wan, but doesn't touch him: he's not sure if such an act would be appreciated or not. "Obi-Wan, c'mon, talk to me. What happened? What's wrong?"
Apparently, talking isn't appreciated either. "Nothing to worry your precious head about," Obi-Wan snarks, lifting his head just enough to glare at him, but cruelly this time; he's said this before, but only in a teasing, banter sort of manner, saved for the salles, and said mostly after Obi-Wan arrived slightly late to their pre-arranged duels. "Just—" Obi-Wan breaks himself off.
"Just what?" Silence. Anakin frowns. "Obi-Wan, I can't help you if you won't talk to me." He nudges his friend—his brother and his master—gently, affectionately. "C'mon, what did Sidious tell you?"
Haltingly, he starts to speak. "Anakin…have you ever—on Tatooine. Tell me. What happened on Tatooine, with your mother?" He slips his hands from his face to his knees.
"I—she died in my arms. She—I went to look for her, and she was there, in some Tusken Camp. I—I tried to save her, but she—she—died. I took her back to the homestead and buried her." Anakin closes his eyes. Obi-Wan knows the real story—he has to, now. Sidious definitely knows—Anakin had told Palpatine once, after all, shortly after the beginning of the Clone Wars.
Obi-Wan doesn't say anything. He's waiting for Anakin to either confirm or deny the murder of the Tuskens. Anakin almost chooses denial, but when he speaks, he just confirms what Obi-Wan already suspects; not best to delay it any longer.
He blinks at Anakin. His hands tighten their grip on his knees. But he does not coil, he does not almost-break again: Anakin has cleared Obi-Wan's mind of confusion and other emotions. "Anakin…."
Anakin stomps down on his emotions because right now, Obi-Wan doesn't need more anger, but he will defend himself. "They killed my mother, and I also wasn't thinking straight."
"Apparently not," Obi-Wan snarks, and looks ready to say more, but Anakin has had enough of his mood.
"Look, Master, I understand why you're angry, but Sidious is trying to push you away from me." Obi-Wan looks away; Anakin moves even closer, hovering, but not touching. "Obi-Wan, you know this. Don't let him get to you. Do you remember what you used to tell me when I was younger?"
A ghost of a smile flickers on Obi-Wan's face. "Unless it is constructive or I tell you otherwise, do not believe what your peers tell you."
Anakin smiles encouragingly. "Exactly. Sidious isn't offering anything constructive, and I'm telling you not to believe what he says. You hear?"
"Yes. But, Anakin, he gets in my head, and I can't—I can't—"
Watching Obi-Wan's face twist in torment rents Anakin's heart apart. Disregarding Obi-Wan's need for personal space, Anakin gathers him in his arms, offering comfort in a place where there is none. "I know, I know. Hey, hey... I know. Hush, it will get better soon. Hey..." He keeps murmuring nonsense as Obi-Wan shudders against him, keening and choking, but not letting any water flow. Obi-Wan is too far past tears—has always been.
(He didn't cry at Qui-Gon's funeral, Anakin remembers. Nor when two hundred Jedi were massacred at Geonosis, or thousands more during the war. He wonders what would have to happen for Obi-Wan to cry. He wonders, but deep in his heart, Anakin does not want to know.)