Before I could make any sense of anything, as soon as I was past the caverns I was scrambling aimlessly in the desert sand; everything was a hazy blur as hurt, angry tears blurred my vision. It seemed as if all I could do anymore was cry and ache.

I had to go somewhere, but I knew I could not go to Miss Nova's house.

I could not have explained this to any of them right now.

Not even Kasen.

I fell twice, but picked myself up each time, running with all my might toward the only other living being I knew I could trust in this vast wasteland…

When that door slid open, I practically fell inside.

Anton Flasgo stepped back and reached out both his arms, holding me at the elbows with a gentle yet strong grasp. He was staring at me hard, probably trying unsuccessfully to make sense of the long string of nonsense I was currently blathering.

"Keelee, please slow down; what's the matter?" His concern was obvious.

And it was understandable -- considering a blubbering, scrambling teenage girl had just collapsed through his front door.

I took a few hiccupping breaths as he lead me to a chair.

I crumpled into it like a dejected rag doll, burying my face in my dirty hands as I tried to calm myself.

Anton was rubbing my back awkwardly, probably thinking I was crazy.

Maybe I was crazy.

I took four long, deep, calming breaths, and willed my tears away.

When I finally regained composure, Anton was seated across from me, waiting for me to explain my sudden appearance.

How I had known he would be home from working at Lana's shop, I did not understand. I guess it had become much later than I realized.

"The battle at Mustafar… it really happened," I said, my voice low and croaky with emotion.

My chest was still jerking sharply from time to time from sobbing so hard.

Anton's gray-blue eyes widened considerably.

"What was it about?" he asked, clearly interested.

I sighed deeply, and poured out the whole story. But as I finished, I made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul. He nodded.

"I won't," he promised. "That's terrible, Keelee. So, you're telling me this psycho is still on the loose then?"

I felt an angry tug at my heart when he called Anakin a psycho, for reasons I could not explain. Perhaps I was still attached.

It was a painful attachment, one I was certain I would work at until I severed it.

"Master Kenobi didn't tell me what became of him, just that he wasn't dead. But I felt such guilt from him. I suppose it was because it was he disappointed Master Yoda, but I think it was more than that. He may not have killed Anakin, but I think he came closer than he wanted to..." I exhaled through my nose, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I told myself I was no longer allowed to cry. I decided right then that crying was a weak action, one that I had taken too much, and would not take again.

I knew deep down it was ridiculous, but I didn't care. I will not cry.

"This must be very rough on you," I heard Anton's warm, sympathetic voice say.

My heart surged, and I swallowed the lump building in my throat stubbornly.

I simply nodded.

"Your Master must be proud of you for surviving," he pointed out, evidently trying to make the situation positive.

I let out a small, cynical laugh. "If you can call it that… but Master Obi-Wan is not my master."

Anton raised a curious eyebrow.

"He is a Master. He is just not mine."

"I know that, I just refer to any loved one as mine. I guess it just came out wrong, huh?" He chuckled a little, running a hand through his wavy red-gold hair.

I sniffed, nodding. "I understand now, though."

We fell silent for a moment, and I twiddled my thumbs beneath the fabric of my tunic. It was a nervous practice, one I had developed underneath Jedi sleeves for years.

"I'd better take you home," Anton finally said. He rose from his seat, and extended his hand to me.

I took it, and felt a strange warmth flow through me. It started in my chest, and spread all over. I blinked twice, startled by it.

Did that come from him, or me?

Or both?

I willed the thoughts away, rising and allowing Anton to lead me to his speeder.

"Thank you for taking me in… again," I smiled shyly.

"You're more than welcome," he told me, eyes focused ahead.

But I saw his lips curve into a smile.

It was a strange, almost wistful smile, something I couldn't put my finger on.

Stop being such a female, I scolded myself. He is just being himself – a generous person, a kind man. You're being ridiculous.

Yes, you're being silly. This proves how young you are, in comparison to him. You still have your childish fantasies of running from the Order, to be married…

Do you want to end up like Anakin?

My own thoughts stung, and I set my jaw.

No, I will never end up like Anakin.