Anakin, slow down," Obi-Wan called over at the young man, who continued to ignore his Master's warnings and went on with his angry rant; until, after repeating the counsel once more, Obi-Wan got his answer.

Anakin spun around, eyes narrowed in fury; and fear, fear that was not easily concealed. "Slow down? Slow down?! You saw them, Master! They're dying!"

Yes, yes he had seen them, Padme Amidala and at-the-time-Anakin's-Padawan Ahsoka Tano, pale and faintly blue with the disease ravaging their bodies. His own fear nearly matched that of his former student, yet he forced all of that out of his mind. Both of them couldn't slip into panic or they were lost. "I know that, Anakin," he said, voice gentle and hopefully soothing. "But in order to take a leap of faith, first you must take two steps back."

Anakin's eyes sparked with determination – a look Obi-Wan knew he would not be able to stop. "And sometimes," the younger Knight said firmly. "All it takes is the will to jump."

His eyes opened slowly, breaking the shuddering memory into little shards as he slipped out of his meditation. Why did it feel so long ago, that mission to stop the Blue Shadow Virus from taking over Naboo? It seemed like a lifetime, not a single year. It couldn't have been just one year…

He felt that familiar pang of grief stab at his heart. Padme was dead. Ahsoka too – that mission on Dathamir that had transformed into a horror film. Obi-Wan could still remember the red mist, the screams of Anakin's apprentice as she tortured by those kriffing witches, Anakin's numbing despair at her death that also seemed so long ago. Why do you do this to him? he asked the Force for the hundredth time. Isn't he supposed to be your kriffing son? That's what they say…

…why are you doing this? To him? To all of us?

To me?

Yes. Why did this happen to him as well? A few months ago, everything had been simple, black and white, despite the war raging around them. He'd known his goals: to end the Clone War. Known his place: a Master and Council member for the Jedi Order, partner to his former apprentice. Known his status: a loyal Jedi, abiding to all the rules of the ancient code. He may have been an 'unemotional zombie', as Anakin had once joked; but he'd been a content unemotional zombie.

And now… now everything was turned upside down. He was in ill light of the Council. His goals now mainly prioritized around Anakin, which was strictly forbidden; for the motive reeked of attachment. Attachment which Obi-Wan now had to admit was very real, no matter how frightening it was that he had become so close to his old student.

In the back of his mind, he received an image of Qui-Gon, smiling encouragingly. "Acceptance is the first step to your path, my Padawan."

"Master?" he breathed aloud, hoping for a response.

Nothing.

He's not going to be handing out free advice any time soon, the Master thought, sighing. And Anakin is returning to Coruscant today. When he tried to outstretch his senses towards the younger man, he was met with a solid wall. Anakin, don't shut me out. He doubted his message was heard, but he sent it anyway. When, once again, he received no answer, he ran a distraught hand through his beard and hair. Oh Force, what am I supposed to do?

Even the Force was no comfort to him, not this time. Instead of bringing the serenity and peacefulness of usual meditation, the mystic energy was snapping with dread and adrenaline, sparking like electricity. That humid, horrid calm before the storm, he thought grimly. And one kriff of a storm it will be.

A quick glance outside the garden windows showed that the physical weather outside matched the tension of the Force. A wet, dreary overcast filtered any sunny beams of light into weak, faint rays that highlighted the dull grays of the planet/city. The clouds darkened with each hour, seeming ready to burst with precipitation; but not a single raindrop fell from the dismal heavens. The people of Coruscant continued with their business as usual, and Obi-Wan watched dozens upon dozens of speeders fly past his window, in a display of random colors.

Slowly, never letting his eyes leave the scene of Coruscant in midday, he lifted himself off the ground and strode over to the window, opening the glass and letting a cold, humid breeze blow copper strands away from his face. The sounds of engines, a few shouting voices from the allies below, and the other sounds of the city filled his ears, helping to bring his mind out of his troubled thoughts and back to the present. Gray eyes closed as he inhaled deeply the fresh air, and then reopened to gaze at the sky – skies that hid the sun behind the growing shadow. I don't know if you can hear me now, Master, he thought desperately. But I really, truly need your help, now more than ever. Something is going to happen, I can feel it; and I'm sure you can too. I'm not asking for an instant sign, or some great fireworks show of your existence. I'm not asking you to fight this fight for me, or give me step by step instructions.

I'm asking you to just let me now that you have my back, even in the slightest way, like you used to, when we were Master and Padawan.

Please.

His eyes closed again, and he listened.

A horn beeped somewhere several times, followed by a few profanities shouted from an irritated pilot.

A person down in the ground-level streets called out to all he passed in an attempt to sell what sounded like used speeder parts for a low price.

The laughter of some rough housing teens in an apartment complex nearby.

And the very loud, very close blasting of a Starcruiser being landed in the Temple hanger bay.

It was that sound that jerked the Master to full awareness, his heart skipping a beat in the sudden adrenaline rush.

Anakin.

Within moments he was flying down the twisting halls and winding staircases, deciding the lifts would take too long. He was well-aware of the looks he got from passing younglings, Padawans, and Knights; and the raised eyebrows from the other Masters. But at the moment he could care less.

At the moment, he could care less…

Once again, the realization of just how much he had changed unnerved him.

As he stepped outside, a blast of cold wind met him with open arms, and just as he had suspected, the temperature had dropped significantly. Before him was the Resolute, the engines just beginning to die, the landing gear planted firmly on the concrete ground. Obi-Wan felt the buzzing of the Force grow in strength, like a hurricane to his ears that he struggled to tune out.

He also felt tendrils of darkness, a shadow he'd became aware of ever since this whole adventure began.

Ever since he saw that video recording.

It had grown with the 'vacation' on Naboo, grown with the bombing, grown with the tension between the ultimate Team and the Jedi Council.

It had grown with Obi-Wan's own fears, doubts, and concerns.

It had grown with Anakin.

Clear. It was clear now that whatever… battle… that Obi-Wan had become engaged in, it was more that keeping Anakin from the public eye and shielding him from selfish, avaricious media reporters and lusting citizens. It was more than letting Anakin have the time to grieve for the love he was forbidden to gain, the love he had tragically lost and the love he mourned for in secret. More than a twisted web of codes and feelings and emotions and that horrid snapping of the Force.

This involved not only Jedi and friendships and the will for peace.

This involved darkness.

The darkness.

Obi-Wan tensed as he watched the landing ramp before him lower, felt Anakin's presence growing clearer.

The dark side.

His six month absence had given that ghastly energy a way in. Into the mortal world. Into the Jedi.

There. There, now he could feel Anakin, still a dominating aura of the Force, still overwhelming and brilliant; but different.

No.

His six month absence had given the dark side a way into Anakin.

And there, standing on the top point of the entry ramp, was the young Knight himself.

Black cloak bellowing around him like a dark ocean, Obi-Wan watched his friend come down slowly, each step precise and calculated. So unlike the reckless Anakin he knew. So much slower, more despairing – he could feel it in the Force.

What has happened? Suddenly, six months seemed like years.

Blue eyes, once so bright, locked onto him, dull and weary. Almost bloodshot. Hollow.

Obi-Wan found himself paralyzed under that gaze; something that had never happened before. Something that almost scared him.

And then, then Anakin was standing before him.

But not his Anakin.

Not the Anakin who had come to him in the middle of the night because of nightmares. Not the Anakin who had caused those few gray hairs because of his inane pranks. Not the Anakin who had become his partner, his greatest, dearest friend. Not the Anakin Obi-Wan had thrown away the code for, just so that he could keep their friendship. Their bond.

This Anakin…

This Anakin stared at him not with relief, not with happiness… not even with any real recognition.

Blank, blue eyes observed the older man up and down, taking in every detail. His clothing seemed even darker – if possible – than the black Obi-Wan remembered him wearing. The Force was vibrating around him, stronger than ever; but lacking something. That bright, immortal aura of light and altruism.

This wasn't his Anakin.

No.

This young man, this Jedi Knight before him, was a stranger.

Anakin… Obi-Wan didn't know what to say, how to talk, how to move. He watched the young man before him, and felt something foul fall upon his tongue. Poison his mind, his taste buds. Anakin… He reached out in the Force, towards his former apprentice, probing those hostile mental barriers.

Anakin felt the snooping and straightened. "I'm glad you're alright, Master."

A stranger's body, but Anakin's voice. Obi-Wan felt some of the needles get pulled from his heart. You're still there. The darkness is all around, and I… I'm losing you… but I haven't lost you yet. You're still there. He tested his limits; reached forward and placed a hand on the shoulder before him. "As I am, young one," he whispered.

Silence. A horrid, tense, silence that Obi-Wan found he loathed.

I hate things now.

More silence. More tension.

Blue eyes met gray, one pair exhausted and bloodshot, the other pleading and desperate.

Anakin, talk to me. Say something. Tell me… tell me I'm not too late. That I didn't fail.

That I can still help you.

Please, Anakin.

Please.

Silence.

Force help us, please…