Hello, dear readers! This fic is the promised ROTS AU sequel to Heart of Darkness. While this fic will probably still make sense even without reading it, I definitely recommend reading that one first. Enjoy! :)

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

It is a story of love and loss, brotherhood and betrayal, courage and sacrifice and the death of dreams. It is a story of the blurred line between our best and our worst.

― Matthew Stover, Revenge of the Sith

"Alright," Anakin conceded. "But you owe me one, and not for saving your skin for the tenth time."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. " Ninth time. That business on Cato Neimoidia doesn't… doesn't count. See you at the briefing."

His transport lifted off and departed, pausing for a while to let several emergency vehicles fly past. The Separatist invasion was averted, Count Dooku was dead and the Chancellor was safe, but Coruscant didn't escape unscathed. The crashing ships and stray missiles had hit many buildings, killing and injuring countless people. The known death toll was in the thousands already; Anakin had overheard the crew of the firefighting ship mention it while they were helping him, Obi-Wan and Palpatine climb out what was left of Grievous's cruiser. He had no doubt that the final number was going to be many times higher.

Thankfully, at least Padmé was safe, Anakin could sense that much.

Chancellor Palpatine and Master Windu were talking now, something about the successful rescue, Dooku being dead and Grievous being a coward, but Anakin wasn't paying attention. He could sense… something. A presence in the Force, painfully familiar; like the first ray of sunlight breaking through a thunderhead…

The Force nudged him to look slightly to his left, towards the thick pillars supporting the Senate building. Padmé was standing in the shadows between the pillars, unnoticed by anyone else. She was looking at Anakin, and he realized that she probably saw him long before he saw her. She smiled at him.

Anakin returned the small smile, a twinge of pain twisting his heart. Almost a year had passed since that nightmarish mission on Subterrel. Since the day they both realized that they couldn't be together while the war was still on and the Sith were still alive. It was just too dangerous. Not just for the two of them, but for everyone around them as well.

So far, they have both kept up their promise. They haven't really met or spoken to one another since Subterrel, aside from a formal greeting the few times their duties made avoiding each other impossible. It was essential to keep Dooku and the Separatists convinced that they had broken up on bad terms, and that they could no longer use Padmé against him. So far, it seemed to be working.

The war had made staying apart easier. Anakin and Obi-Wan had spent the last few months fighting in the Outer Rim, going from one battle straight to the next one. Neither of them had even set foot on Coruscant for months. But now, they were both likely to stay there for at least a few weeks, perhaps even longer. The Senate and the Council seemed to be rattled by the attempted invasion and the Chancellor's kidnapping, and were recalling as many Jedi and clones to the Core as they could afford.

Anakin wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up. Living like that was unbearable already. Not being able to see his wife for over a year, not even being able to talk to her over hologram, in case Separatist spies were listening in on his communications… it was torture. He'd thought that with time, their separation would become a bit easier to bear. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. But it couldn't be any farther from the truth. This kriffing war needed to end, and soon.

Anakin looked away before anyone could notice. He and Padmé have successfully kept their ruse up for a year. It would be embarrassing to blow their cover now. The group of politicians headed towards the entrance of the Senate Building. Anakin tagged along near the back of the group, faking polite smiles and engaging in pointless small talk with Bail Organa. Soon, Padmé disappeared from his view.

By the time Anakin finally entered the Jedi Temple, it was almost midnight. Despite his sour mood, the sight of the familiar statues lining the main entrance still brought a smile to his face.

It was nice to be home again.

He couldn't wait to have a hot shower and crawl into his bed—a nice, proper bed, not one of the hard and narrow bunks on the cruiser—but he wanted to go see Obi-Wan first. Anakin had a few words to say to him about making him "enjoy his glorious day with politicians". It wasn't glorious at all. After the first few hours, Anakin had genuinely started wishing Grievous returned and kidnapped Palpatine again, just so he could get the hell out of there.

But he also wanted to make sure that Obi-Wan was alright. That fall during their fight with Dooku didn't look pretty.

Anakin shuddered. First the skirmish with the buzz droids, and then the battle with Dooku. He almost watched his friend die twice in a single day. After three years of being on the front lines almost constantly, the fact that they were both still alive was nothing short of a miracle. But how much longer could they keep pushing their luck until it finally ran out?

Anakin found Obi-Wan sitting behind his desk in his quarters in the Temple, typing something on his datapad. Most likely some usual boring paperwork for the Council. As Anakin entered, Obi-Wan put the datapad down and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, how did you enjoy your great day?" Obi-Wan asked, almost smirking.

Anakin gave him a well-deserved scowl. "You're joking, right? I had to spend the last six hours posing for photos and pretending to be interested in the most inane conversations I've ever heard. My mouth still hurts from all of the fake smiling."

Obi-Wan wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. "Such is the price of being a hero."

Anakin glared at him. "And don't think I'm not onto you, too. You didn't avoid the press conference out of some Jedi humility or anything. You knew how boring it was going to be."

Obi-Wan didn't even have the decency to look contrite. He was practically smirking. "I'm sorry. I thought it was obvious. I've had to attend my share of press conferences during my time with Qui-Gon, and I have to say that I didn't enjoy them any more than you did. I had no wish to repeat that experience."

"Well, next time, you're going to be the poster boy. And you owe me lunch at Dex's."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Fair enough, I suppose."

Their relationship had gotten so much better since Subterrel. A year ago, Anakin had genuinely thought that they could never be friends again. Not after… that. But he couldn't have been more wrong. Thank the Force for that.

Obi-Wan closed the datapad and stood up, rubbing his shoulder. Anakin's joking mood faded away.

Despite the medic's reassurances, there was some permanent damage from Obi-Wan's injuries on Subterrel after all. He couldn't move or feel the last two fingers on his left hand, and his shoulder would sometimes ache after a long battle or when the weather was bad. Luckily, it didn't affect his lightsaber skills, but the damage was permanent. Not even the Jedi Healers in the Temple had been able to do anything about it. He would have to deal with the consequences of Anakin's bad decisions for the rest of his life.

Obi-Wan must have guessed what Anakin was thinking, because his smile slowly faded away, too. "Anakin, we've had this conversation before. I forgave you for what happened on Subterrel a long time ago. You need to forgive yourself as well."

"I'll try," Anakin muttered half-heartedly, although he knew that it wasn't going to happen.

Speaking about the Healers, there was another reason Anakin had come to see him.

"How's your head?" Anakin asked.

As expected, Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm fine, Anakin."

Anain rolled his eyes. He had never understood why his former Master was so annoyed whenever someone expressed even the slightest concern about his well-being, out of some sense of misplaced pride. Was it so bad to be worried about people you cared about?

"No offense, Master, but you could be on death's door and still insist that you're fine. Have you been to the Healers, which, by the way, I had specifically reminded you to do?"

"I have not. There are many people who need their attention much more than I do."

Unfortunately, that was probably true. With the sheer number of clones, civilians, and Jedi who were seriously injured during the battle, all medcenters on this half of the planet were undoubtedly in a state of complete chaos.

Anakin sighed. "Fine. But at least let me have a look. If you're fine, I promise that I'll leave you alone."

Obi-Wan gave him a warning look.

Anakin sighed. "Look… I almost watched you die today. Twice . I just want to be sure that you're alright."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, turning from annoyance to understanding. "I know. Sorry." He sat down and nodded.

Anakin closed his eyes and lightly touched his temples, using the Force to sense if anything was seriously wrong. It was a very basic use of the Force, not too different from sensing his surroundings or incoming blaster bolts. Thankfully, Obi-Wan was right. He was going to be fine in a day or two. He was probably going to have a headache and some colorful bruises from his fall, but nothing worse than that.

Obi-Wan glanced at his desk and rubbed his temples, unsuccessfully trying to stave off an oncoming headache. "As much as I enjoy your company, Anakin, I'm afraid that I still have some work to do. I'll see you tomorrow."

Anakin rolled his eyes and pulled the datapad out of his reach. "Don't even think about it. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure that doing paperwork for the Council is not the recommended treatment for having a concussion. Go lie down. I'll finish the reports."

Obi-Wan gave him a grateful sigh and lay down. He closed his eyes, some of the tension disappearing from his face. Anakin dimmed the lights and placed a towel soaked with ice cold water on his forehead.

Obi-Wan gave him a smile, without opening his eyes. "Thank you, Anakin. I have no idea what I'd do without you," he said with a chuckle.

Anakin returned the smile and managed to mumble, "You're welcome," but his heart clenched.

I have no idea what I'd do without you, either, he thought, but it wasn't a happy thought. It was a scared one. It was no secret that his former Master was a better and kinder person than Anakin was. If Anakin had to think of anyone who personified the Light Side itself, it would be him. Being around him had made Anakin a better person, too.

Seeing death and bloodshed every day had a terrible effect on people. It made them darker, colder, ruthless—sometimes, almost as cruel as the Separatists they were fighting. Anakin noticed it in many people—in the Council members, many other Jedi he knew, his men, everyone. Even Ahsoka had acted noticeably colder the last time they spoke, so different from the upbeat, optimistic young girl she was when he first met her. Anakin knew that over the past year, Obi-Wan's positive influence had been the only thing that had stopped Anakin from having the same thing happen to him, only much worse. And if his former Master was killed, like what almost happened today… The possibility was terrifying.

"And, Anakin…" Obi-Wan said, pulling him out of his gloomy thoughts and back to reality. "Please at least try to make it look like I wrote the report. No swear words or calling Dooku and Grievous colorful names, as you sometimes tend to do in your reports."

Somehow, Anakin managed a smirk. "Duly noted."

Well, maybe he would sneak one small less-than-professional phrase in there, just as a small friendly payback for the press conference. No one ever read those reports, anyway.

Anakin's own small quarters in the Temple were freezing cold, every surface covered in a thin layer of dust. He hadn't been there in months.

He turned up the heat, finished Obi-Wan's mission reports as quickly as he could, had a quick shower and crawled into his bed. Faint flashes of colorful light danced across the ceiling, shining in through the half-closed blinds. Fireworks. There was distant music and singing, as well. Most people were still awake, celebrating today's victory. With the invasion averted, the Chancellor rescued and Dooku dead…

After three long years, the odds could be finally beginning to turn in favor of the Republic.

All that was left now was Grievous. If he was captured, or killed... the war could be over within weeks. Within days .

After that, the last remaining Sith would have to make his move and reveal himself, if he wanted the war to continue. It could be mere weeks before Anakin could finally fulfill the promise he gave to Padmé a year ago.

After the war is over and the Sith are defeated, I'll leave the Order and move with you to Naboo. We'll finally have a normal life… a normal family.

The thought brought a flash of joy, but also guilt. There were many things wrong with the Order, but it was still his home. And people like Obi-Wan, Rex, Cody, and the rest of Anakin's men… they were like his family, in all but blood. He could never forget how much it had hurt when Ahsoka left the Order. She'd been gone for over a year now, but the pain and the feelings of betrayal her departure caused was still as raw as the day she left. Anakin didn't want to do the same thing to them.

Not to mention that the last time he spoke with Ahsoka, just before she and Rex left for Mandalore to try and capture Maul… for a moment, it almost sounded like she was considering returning to the Order.

Anakin shook his head, pushing the bleak thoughts out of his mind. It was far too late, and he was far too tired to solve such problems at the moment. He would worry about it tomorrow. He closed his eyes and drifted off into deep sleep, thinking about his unguessable future.

The dream was a chaotic mess of images and sounds, morphing into each other without rhyme or reason.

The familiar silhouette of the Jedi Temple towered against the darkening sky, illuminated by bright flames. It was burning…

A solemn procession moved slowly through the streets of Theed, drawing a closed casket adorned with white flowers.

Crumbling ruins of an abandoned building stood alone in the forest, illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Anakin's voice demanded angrily, but he couldn't see who he was speaking to.

A cacophony of sounds clashed with each other; screams, clashing lightsabers, a crackle of lightning and the sound of shattering glass.

A burning Republic cruiser, broken in two, fell through the air like a meteorite.

Anakin saw himself standing in near darkness, the ground around his feet littered with broken stone. He ignited the lightsaber in his hand, the blade's blue glow reflecting in his eyes. They were narrowed in anger, looking ahead at someone or something he couldn't see. An inexplicable sense of dread washed over him, sending a cold shiver up his spine.

He was back on Naboo, watching the funeral procession. This time, the fleeting image was clear enough to recognize some familiar faces in the silent crowd. Ahsoka, Bail Organa, Queen Jamillia, Sio Bibble, Boss Nass, and two people Anakin had met only once — Padmé's parents.

A distorted hologram of a hooded figure laughed and laughed, a mad, unhinged voice that didn't even sound human.

Padmé's voice screamed, a gut-wrenching cry, filled with absolute terror. She reached for him, but his hand went right through hers, as if it was made of nothing more than thin air, and everything disappeared in a flash of blinding light.

Muhahaha. Let the fun* begin!

*For me. For the poor characters involved... not so much.

Thank you for reading, and please leave a review!