AN: Sorry about the delay! And sorry for any confusion-I uploaded the wrong version of this chapter, at first!

"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."
Helen Keller

Chapter 9 The Force

It had been three days since the night on the balcony, and Obi-Wan hadn't slept since.

Well, that's not true. Probably four hours that first night. Two the next…another three and a half the following…and with naps during the day I've gotten a good...twelve hours. Maybe. He grimaced. Optimism was hard to maintain after being driven awake by incoherent nightmares in the early hours of the night. Again.

He'd tried regular meditations during the day, but his equilibrium was shot and with Anakin around he couldn't devote the time required to regain that equilibrium. Shorter meditation efforts were derailed by his own pain and guilt.

He rolled over and stared at the clock, watching the minutes come to a standstill. He had always been prone to insomnia, but this was ridiculous. The minutes crawled by, impossibly slow. The clock stared in the darkness, mocking him. Low level panic, fueled by exhaustion driven claustrophobia, twined itself around his heart.

Fed up with himself, Obi-Wan did what he had done the last three nights; he got up. The Jedi called his lightsabre to his hand, immediately relaxing at the touch of cold metal, and feeling suddenly eager now that his decision had been made. He paused at the door to make sure that Anakin was really asleep on the couch. Satisfied, he opened the door and slipped out of the apartment to the salles.

The nights were when everything collapsed in—his master's death, his failures, Anakin, the future, the darkness, all of it, squeezing like a vice. He'd taken to sneaking out to practice with his 'sabre, throwing himself into learning the new form he had been studying. It had become his escape, the only comfort he could find when the night pressed in.

The gym was dark, but the motion-sensitive lighting flickered on when he stepped into the room. Obi-Wan opted not to turn the main lights on, preferring the half-dark. It was easier to concentrate. He took a moment to limber up, aware that he hadn't recovered from either his wounds or his recent inactivity.

He'd checked out the beginner's Form III holocron from the Archives over a week ago, though he hadn't had a chance to do more than poke through it. Since his master's death, though, it had become a lifeline. He had memorized the initial Soresu katas that first night. Last night had been devoted to practicing the First Soresu Kata. Tonight was to the Second. He sank into the opening stance, part of him relishing the strain it up on his still-healing shoulder.

He called on the Force. The pain dissipated. It swirled around him and he dove in, leaving himself behind. The effects were heady. The exhaustion, the pain, the worry, the guilt, the bitterness, the failure all disappeared under the weight Force. It didn't feel like the Force usually felt, with personality and a quirky sense of humor. This side of the Force was full of raw, sustaining energy, demanding and unrelenting. Its comfort was in forgetfulness, not acceptance. And for now, forgetfulness was all he wanted. Losing himself to the impersonal power, he distantly felt himself run the kata over and over again, but it was only an echo of physical sensation.

There was no passage of time, no anything until a patient, persistent nudge from the Force broke through the void. The sudden feeling unbalanced Obi-Wan, bringing him out of the meditation and disrupting his kata. The forgetfulness disappeared. The sudden reemergence in the world of the physical was jarring, but fortunately he only had a sharp moment of emotional pain before exhaustion conveniently blotted it out. His legs threatened to go on strike, shaking precariously, and the hand that scrubbed the sweat from his forehead was cold and clammy.

He glanced at the clock and scowled at the time.

People will be getting up soon. The need for privacy was stronger than his need for oblivion. With a longing glance around the room, he deactivated his lightsabre and made a shaky exit from the room.

Walking was difficult, but Obi-Wan was stubborn and he doggedly made his way back towards his apartment. More impressively, he didn't fall over. It took all of his concentration to keep moving forward after his self-imposed beating, leaving no room to return to the haunting thoughts and emotions that had driven him from bed hours before.

Unfortunately, those thoughts came flooding back as he approached the Jinn/Kenobi apartment. Averting his eyes from the plaque, he steeled himself for the wash of his master's Force signature that would sweep him when he opened the door.

It's a like a smell. Spend enough time with it and you could forget it was there at all. Reintroduce an old scent though, and it's all you can think about.

Except, when the door opened, the rush in the Force wasn't lion-strong-big, it was small-scared-lonely. Something like panic danced in Obi-Wan's gut. The Force urged him inside, but gave no indication of what had happened.

"Anakin?" he called in a low voice, stepping through the entryway. There was no answer.

A survey of the living room told him Anakin wasn't on the couch—the blankets sat abandoned and cold on the floor.

Bathroom door's open, so he's not in there…my door is open. It wasn't open when I left….

A couple of strides brought him to the doorway. He leaned on the door jamb and peered into the semi-dark where the source of the Force disturbance was curled up on top of the bedclothes. The parts of Anakin's face Obi-Wan could see above his blanket was anxious, lined even in sleep. It was like a low cloud of misery had wrapped itself around him. Obi-Wan curled a calming tendril of the Force around him, sending him into a deeper sleep and brushing away the miasma clotting the Force. His face eased, but Obi-Wan felt even worse as he put the pieces together and realized what had happened.

Anakin had nightmares. From what Obi-Wan could tell, they were fairly common but Anakin seemed determined to deal with them on his own and Obi-Wan respected his privacy enough to let him. But twice the nightmares had been bad enough for Anakin to abandon his defiant independence. Twice he had gone to Obi-Wan, terrified into silence and clingy.

Now it's happened three times.

There was bitter taste in his mouth. Anakin had gone to him for help and he hadn't been there. Guilt burbled in his stomach. It felt too much like his other recent failure. He'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to be where he needed to be, and a friend had paid the price.

The Padawan pushed away from the wall and his thoughts. He snatched a clean set of clothing from the small dresser and headed to the shower.

Thank the Force there's no lack of hot water here. It eased some of the cramps in his legs and shoulder, and though it did nothing for his exhaustion, the emotional overload faded. The strong caf he brewed afterwards sharpened his mind enough to begin breakfast.

It wasn't long before Anakin appeared, grouchy and tousle-haired. Neither of them were morning people and so breakfast the silent breakfast was not unusual. The thoughtful look on Anakin's face was, however, and Obi-Wan had an uncomfortable sense that he was being studied. Being a specimen was preferable to being interrogated about his disappearance the night before, so Obi-Wan didn't comment. As the morning passed, Anakin made no mention of his nightmare and Obi-Wan didn't press.

He'll come to me if he truly needs help. He tried to ignore the fact that he hadn't been there when Anakin had come to him for help.

The rest of the day was nice, like the last three had been. It wasn't good—it was far too soon for that—but it was pleasant. It was full without being busy; there were friends, but they didn't crowd; there was Anakin, but he wasn't demanding (today he was being especially quiet, almost thoughtful); there was the HoloNet, but it helped him nap. There was no hiding from his problems during the day, but then, they didn't seem as horrible during the day as they did in the darkest reaches of the night.

But time marched inexorably forward and night approached. Too soon for Obi-Wan's comfort, it was dinner time. He blinked and suddenly Anakin was getting ready for bed. He stalled it as much as he could, but he knew a day of cranky Anakin would wreak havoc on his own ability to pretend to function and he couldn't afford that. Bowing to the inevitable, he sent Anakin to bed and retreated to the loneliness of his room. He stood blankly in the center of the room for a long moment.

What was I doing? He tugged on his braid, trying to clear his caffeine deprived mind. Oh, yeah! Getting ready for bed. That's right. He reached for his pajamas and then paused. Do I really need to change? I'm only going to go back to the salles tonight. Be practical: it's not like you're going to be able to sleep anyway. The Force swirled, scolding, and Obi-Wan shook his head to clear it. Being practical means getting sleep, he reminded himself sternly. Or trying to.

Tenaciously, he forced himself to get ready for bed and to climb in. He refused to give up on sleep without a fight, even if it just meant lying listlessly in bed or tossing around in unmemorable nightmares. With a flick of the Force, he shut off the lights and stared into the empty room.

The tingling Force was his only warning. Obi-Wan had just enough time to sit up before the door burst open and Anakin made an abrupt entrance.

"Obi-Wan!"

The Jedi blinked at the volume. "What? Anakin, is everything all right?"

With his hands flapping awkwardly in front of him in a parody of his usual exuberance, Anakin screwed his face up into an echo of fear. "I had a nightmare!"

Anakin goes silent when he has nightmares. He doesn't get loud like this.

"It was super scary!"

Obi-Wan glanced at the clock. It's been twenty minutes. He couldn't have fallen asleep, much less had a nightmare. He's an awful liar.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Anakin missed the skepticism and took the response as invitation. He stepped up to the bed. "It was awful!" He peered soulfully up into Obi-Wan's eyes.

So, clearly, Anakin is making up this nightmare. Why? He's not prone to lying. But he was quiet all day…he's been planning this, Obi-Wan realized. But why?

"Awful?" he parroted skeptically.

"Uhuh!" Anakin clambered up onto his bed. Obi-Wan was too awestruck by the child's audacity to say anything. "Awful!"

Again, guilt struck, along with realization. Anakin knows, or he's guessed, that I've been leaving the apartment at night. And he doesn't like it.

Anakin was still rambling on about his nightmare while blithely confiscating a good portion of Obi-Wan's bed and more than his share of the blanket.

Of course he doesn't like it! He knows I'm not doing well—that's why he was staring at me all day—it's probably why he was talking to Bant for so long this afternoon—and he knows I left last night. He knows I'm not sleeping. He doesn't like that I wasn't there to help him last night. He's trying to fix both problems. Anakin may be oblivious, but he isn't stupid.

Obi-Wan glanced longingly at his lightsabre on the dresser. If he caved to Anakin, he wouldn't be able to practice. He'd be forced to face the night and its nightmares. He wouldn't be able to forget, even for a little while.

But it was Anakin. Obi-Wan couldn't knowingly abandon Anakin, not when it was something he could so easily fix. Not when he completely understood why Anakin wanted his company so badly. Not when he had failed him the night before. Not when he'd been forgiven for that failure. Not when Anakin's Force-presence was radiating that warm contentment into his side and the night didn't seem so heavy.

So Obi-Wan didn't leave, and he didn't make Anakin leave, though he really wanted to. At first.

He wasn't awake to feel Anakin's unadulterated joy at the success of his Great Master Plan.

He wasn't awake to feel the Force swirl in pleasure at his choice.

Compliments? Questions? Concerns? Criticisms? Note them below and then click "Post Review." (thanks!)