Two weeks later:
~Obi-wan's POV~
He was gone. He was really gone.
The bond was not there. Obi-wan could not believe it. He could not fathom that what his mind and heart told him was true, really was. Yet, he knew it was.
That was why he had felt his heart break. He could still feel it. It was broken in half, and he could not; for the life of him; find the other kriffing half.
Because he was gone.
Obi-wan turned away from Qui-gon, who had materialized in front of him. He ignored what the specter said. What did it matter? Why was Qui-gon even there? Obi-wan had broken his promise. He had promised to train, to nurture, to protect Anakin.
And he was gone.
So what did Qui-gon want from him? Was he encouraging Obi-wan to run away again? To what? Back to Biyalia to tell a wife and her children that their father and husband were dead? Dead because of him? He could envision it, how Padme would run down the stairs, Leia on her hip.
"Where's Ani?"
But Obi-wan would not have brought him home to her this time. He had failed them. He had failed them all. Perhaps it was being a coward, not to be determined to stand and find a way to tell Padme.
She was a good woman; she deserved to be told by someone who had loved Anakin just as much as she. But Obi-wan couldn't. He could not even stand.
He was racked with too much guilt and anguish, so much that his entire body ached with it.
And what about Nava, and Ahsoka and Intrepid, Lux? How would he tell any of them? "Anakin's dead," he could not even say it himself.
"Rex is dead, Cody is dead. All of those loyal soldiers are dead." Cody, his friend, his loyal and cunning friend.
How could he face the council and tell them that their last hope was gone? That the prophecy was wrong? That there was no Chosen One. Nobody was coming to save them and bring back the good old days. The war would go on forever and the Jedi would fade into nonexistence.
Obi-wan let out a sob. They all had died for nothing.
Anakin died because of him. Cody died because of him. Rex died because of him. It was hisfault. If he had just listened to Bruck, just stayed where he was and endured the torture…
Then they would all be alive. Then the bond would not have snapped like it had, in one cruel, swift motion.
But no, Obi-wan had been too selfish. He had been willing to risk the bluff, and now what had happened?
It had not been a bluff, and it had been someone he cared about, people he loved, who had died because of it. The cruelest degree of irony. It would have been fair, and justice, for Obi-wan to die, but not his friends. That was just irony.
Cody, you cared about me. You were loyal to me, not to the general you saw every day. Rex, blast, you were brave, even when I did not feel like it, you were brave. Anakin…
Obi-wan closed his eyes. The pain, the pain was too much. He could not bear it, not this much pain. It suckled at him like a newborn still clumsy at its mother's breast.
Anakin, I tried so hard to protect you. I would have given anything to keep you safe and happy. Yet your whole life I criticized you, I lectured you, I never accepted you the way you were. You deserved so much more, so much better than me. Forgive me, Ani; please forgive me.
What was he supposed to do without his little brother? His other half? What was he supposed to do now that his pride and hope was dead? You deserve to stay here and suffer, his soul whispered with the voice of Bruck. For the promises you broke and the people you got killed. You deserve to sit here and rot into oblivion.
Obi-wan groaned. What do you do when you die, Qui-gon? What do you do when someone steals your soul and leaves you dead? This body traps me. What do I do now? What advice do you have to give?
Qui-gon was gone too.
Obi-wan hugged his knees, alone in his cell. Bruck was right, he decided. Dooku was right, Ventress was right; Grievous was right. What are you, Obi-wan? Who are you? You're supposed to be a hero, but you've just been playing at the role all this time.
He gulped heavily, feeling as if he were swallowing lead, which Bruck had made him do some days before.
You could not even save your own best friend. You could not save the clones or those children. You could not save Siri, Qui-gon, Tahl, Cerasi, or Qyula. What have you done for this universe? What good have you done? Won a battle here and there? Anakin was going to save the Jedi, the universe. And you… You killed him. Obi-wan shook his head.
"Obi-wan the corps child! Obi-wan the worthless child!" Force, they were all right. All this time, they were right.
A large click interrupted Obi-wan out of his misery. He did not turn around to see who had stepped in. He deserved whatever they gave to him.
"Oh, are you hurt, my darling?" Oh, it was her again. Obi-wan was surprised when he did not shiver in dread or fear. He no longer cared about what happened to him. He did not care, but he had cared about Anakin.
This witch had helped kill Anakin.
Before Obi-wan could turn, he felt long, spindly finger grab his arm and yank him around. "Don't ignore me," came the terse reply from the ugly creature.
Obi-wan did not answer. He had not spoken a word in two weeks. Why should he? Slowly, he looked up at her.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you, he thought. All other thoughts were drowned out as this one mantra played over and over in his mind like a lullaby. She began her usual poking, prodding and stroking.
Obi-wan watched her blankly while his mind spun and bucked. You killed my child. You killed my little brother. I hate you. I hate you, Bruck; I hate everyone who tore me away from my family. I'll never see Nava again because of you. I hate you.
Obi-wan jerked when she stroked away his hair, in the place Siri used too. Without his consent, his mind stashed him and everything he used to be away in itself and his body took action.
Despite the fact that one of his hands was still broken, the other had swiftly healed. He used that one to grab her wrist and twist it behind her back. The female screamed.
Obi-wan's hands were still chained together. But the demon possessing his body somehow got it unraveled, and Obi-wan saw his body work without his conscious consent.
He only heard the burning lullaby twirling in his mind.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much. You killed my brother.
He watched himself wrap the chain around Torah's neck. He saw her screaming and crying. He saw Qui-gon above him, calling something, his face disgusted and pleading.
Yet there was no sound, nothing but the rapid beat of the drum inside of his chest. Anakin, Anakin, I have to avenge Anakin.
He pulled and yanked, holding her down. He saw her face turn first red, then purple. Her eyes bulged and her tongue went blue as it popped out of her mouth, puffed up.
Finally, her body stopped wiggling and she stopped screaming.
I hate you. You hurt me. You killed Anakin. You made me betray my family. I hate you. Somehow, that did not seem like him, but it was. It was now. Bruck had remolded him into this.
Torah lay in front of him, her face hidden by folds of hair and unrecognizable from puffiness and blood.
Obi-wan was also covered in blood. He did not care. He did not care about anything anymore. He felt empty. The anger he had felt earlier was gone, and his mind still held him hostage.
Now there was only the grief and anguish and remorse for the friend he had felt killed.
And when Bruck came in and found Torah, he laughed and told Obi-wan good job. Obi-wan did not answer, only stared at the puddle of blood and wondered who exactly had killed Torah, and why Anakin was still dead, even though he had been avenged.
