His heart lept into his throat when he opened his eyes. The familiar feeling of chains that he had grown accosmed to, the weight that seemed to keep him tied down all the time, were gone.

He sat up in excitement, quickly regretting it as the sudden movement didn't give his body enough time to pump blood to his head, making him nearly fall off the table. He felt the being do what seemed to be the equivalent of smacking one's forehead in exasperation, but he ignored them.

He eagerly took off the blind fold, blinking his eyes rapidly as they adjusted to the light for the first time in what seemed to be years.

The cell was small and dark, a thick and bulky looking door at the front of the room, with absolutely nothing in the room. He was on a bed in the middle of the room, the chains discarded to the floor on the side. He rubbed his eyes but stopped when his attention was brought to his hands. Or hand at least.

He stared at his right hand, staring at the metallic sheen of the metal plating. He flexed his hand experimentally, tilting his head at the sight of it.

Well that is a thing.

He didn't let himself dwell on his prosthetic, based on the way it was fused with his skin, he could tell that he have had it for a long time. Instead, he took to looking at his clothes.

He was wearing this odd combination of robes and armor. The black and crimson embellishments of the armor matching the underlying robes. The clothes were dirty, full of dust and what looked like dried blood. It looked like he was someone who lived a peaceful life but also someone who wasn't naive enough to think he would be safe where ever he went.

A thud from outside the door made him jump, without saying anything, he gingerly got off the bed. He would have enjoyed the feeling of standing on his feet again, but another thud from beyond the door made him scramble into the corner.

He watched from his perch in the corner, jumping at every sound. It took him a few hours of constant vigilance to relax. Finally shifting from his curled-up position to sitting crisscross on the cold, stone floor. He stared at his left boot, or at least, at the heel.

There was there odd seam in the middle of the heal that didn't look right, it looked to be out of place. He fiddled with the heel, his fingers somehow finding the mechanism for the heel to pop off.

He blinked in surprise when the heel fell off, even more so when he realized that it was a hidden compartment. He tilted his head in curiosity as he opened up the compartment. It was a little bit odd that there was a hidden compartment in a boot of all things.

He blinked in surprise for a second time when two small beaded items fell out of the compartment.

They looked to be high quality, the dark blue and black quartz beads and the hot pink and light pink quartz beads were connected together with copper thread.

His heart ached for some reason. There was something about the beads that made his heart beat out of excitement, which it shouldn't have, it was just some beads after all, and made his heart long for something.

For reasons he couldn't explain, the beads felt special to him. They had to be special, they were stashed away in a hidden compartment after all. Granted, it was a little bit odd that they were in his boot, but they were there for a reason.

Another thud from outside the door made him scramble to hide the beaded items.

Something told him that he had to keep them at all costs.

"Keep Ahsoka with you, don't let her leave your side for one second."

Obi-wan jerked awake in his bedroom, the phrase fresh in his mind and slowly being permanent as he kept on thinking about it.

He looked over at Ahsoka, who was curled up right next to him, dried tears on her face. Obi-wan settled back into bed, wrapping his arm around Ahsoka and sending reassuring emotions through their bond in hopes she would wake up in tears in the morning like she has for the past month.

He ran his hand down his face.

Its already been a month.

A month since they left the temple in a trio and only a pair returned. A month since he saw the peaceful smile of his best friend. And merely two days since Obi-wan and Ahsoka watched an empty casket be lowered into the ground.

He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes wide open as the minutes passed by. After a while, he got out, tucked in Ahsoka before leaving his room. The door closed silently behind him, his eyes resting on the messy scrawl that labeled Anakin's room.

Without a thought, he entered the room.

Like always, he had to watch his step, droid parts and other miscellaneous items littering the floor. The only thing that was neat would be his bed, he had made it before they left for their mission and since neither them dared enter his room, it was still made. Obi-wan flicked on the lights before making his way to Anakin's bed. Taking in the remnants of Anakin's force signature that still stubbornly lingered in the room. They would be gone within a few days now, so Obi-wan tried to imprint the signature into his mind as much as he could, before it disappeared for the rest of time.

He sat down on the bed, remembering all the times he has walked in and sat on the bed like this to talk to Anakin.

A small lump under one of Anakin's pillow caught his eye, he tenderly took out what was causing the lump. His breath catching in his throat when he saw what it was.

"Oh Anakin," he ran his hands over the worn material, the colors were long faded," I can't believe you kept this." Obi-wan let a few tears leak out at the sight of the stuffed bantha.

It was one of the first things he had given to Anakin. Anakin was hopelessly homesick and after he had seen the stuffed animal while on a short errand, he knew he had to buy it for the boy.

He will never forget the way Anakin's face lit up at the sight of the stuffed animal, or the way he clutched it to his chest. Or the way when years later, he found Anakin holding onto it in his sleep.

Obi-wan clutched it tightly to his chest, basking in Anakin's force signature. Based on the way it radiated his signature, Obi-wan could tell that he slept with it every time he was at the temple. He curled in on himself, the stuffed animal smushed against his body, tears freely running down his face. It had already been a month since his brother died and he was still crying like it has just happened mere hours ago.

Nothing would be enough to ease the pain of Anakin's death.

Nothing.