Anakin came to slowly, his eyes adjusting to the room around him. The first thing he noticed was the empty med sleeper across the room, still fresh with the imprint of where his Master had slept beside him. If there had ever been a doubt as to whether or not it had been Obi-wan and not someone else, Anakin could still feel the ghost of the man's presence linger in the space like a warmth on his skin.

That soothing energy calmed him as he began to collect himself, along with the memories that were tossed haphazardly throughout his mind. Fragments began to come back in flashes of sight and sound, all tied together with the sturdy cord of emotion that pulled him back in time.

He remembered leaving Devaron, his Master taking him away from that awful place. He remembered the kiss that they had shared. Remembering that sent a flutter through his chest and tied his stomach in knots. Of course he knew it wasn't meant to be, but he held tightly onto that memory all the same. The sweet taste of his Master's tongue on his own, the one single moment where their feelings were no longer hidden from one another, or ignored. It was foolish to ever think it could work, but that moment had been pure bliss.

And everything after had been hell. Suddenly it all came rushing back to him in an icy blurr- from getting stranded out in the middle of open space, to waking up captured and detrimentally incapacitated. The memory of Jerot's death hit him like a stone wall, knocking the air out of his lungs as the rest of the events ran him over with the same disregard for his unraveling emotional state.

The bruises and scratches that wrapped around Jerot's neck, the darkening mark on the boy's arm that circled his wrist, still fresh. The second wave of realization that he was dead rushed through him again in another bout of anguish. A tide of anger quickly replaced it as his thoughts turned to Zaann.

Yes, Anakin recalled with icy clarity the way he strode into that small room with more hubris than the entire Order should have possessed. The way he had laid out all of his grand plans, how he had been designing their demise from the very beginning. The way he had cut Obi-wan to pieces connecting the dots to the root of Anakin's sickness. The look on his Master's face still haunted him.

His eyes were mirrors of absolute horror. Anakin still remembered how his heart stopped dead in his chest, how he couldn't breathe. How the look of terror stricken shock had painted his Master's face a sickly white shade. If Obi-wan had to know the difficult truth of what had really happened, there were so many better ways to break it.

It was inevitable that the truth was going to hurt his Master, no matter how he learned it. Anakin had been prepared to go the rest of his life without ever speaking of it at all. It would have been better that way. So much better than watching Zaann laugh as he ripped Obi-wan apart without a second thought. Watching it all play out hurt Anakin terribly, making his fear turn to a festering rage.

But after watching Zaann slice Jerot through- the only person in the entire temple of Eedit who had ever looked at him as something other than an annoyance, something inside of Anakin had changed. That simmering anger turned to black molten tar inside of him. It became larger than the scope of his fear, which was significant to say the least. It became larger than himself, more powerful than anything he had ever felt before. That rage used him more than he had used it as a tool, but somehow it heeded his desires all the same. It had locked onto the one he hated and wrapped itself around the wretched Zabrak, wanting to wring the life out of him.

But Anakin wanted the last blow. He wanted to see the light leave the man's eyes, and relish knowing it had been him who had taken it. And Anakin did remember the satisfying rush that filled his veins as he struck the man dead with his own saber.

And after that, was nothing. It felt nearly seamless to the point where Anakin blinked his eyes open, filled with too many things than he knew how to feel in the moment, waiting for Obi-wan to come back for him.

Not feeling keen on the idea of sitting around and waiting much longer, he got up and showered, rinsing off the feverish grime from his skin. Anakin saw his pallor had nearly returned to normal. The dark lines that had carved their way through him were absent entirely. He figured it would be the same as when his Master had been sick, that it would be a little longer before the virus was fully purged from his system. He would just have to take it easy until then.

Anakin would gladly heed that advice. With his heart numbed from the gravity of his most recent memories that he had yet to process the trauma of, he would happily stay in their apartment the entire week. He wanted nothing more than to sit in their living space with a cup of hot steaming tea in his palms with his Master right beside him. With Zaann dead and gone, no one would be so hell bent on their demise any longer. Things might even return to something that felt like normal- a new normal.

Toweling off and dressing himself, Anakin met with a surprised healer just outside his med room. The Twi-lek man's eyes went wide with shock as he ushered Anakin back into the room to take his vitals and run a few tests. Most of them came back clear, and just as he expected, he was given very strict orders to avoid using any force powers at all cost for the next week. But for all intents and purposes, he was free to leave.

"Have you seen where my Master went?" Anakin asked, spinning on his heel to face the Twi'lek man.

"No, I haven't seen him since early this morning. He's been by your side ever since you arrived, I'm sure he hasn't strayed far." The man reassured him.

With a nod Anakin turned and headed for the apartment wing. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he thought about what the Twi'lek said. It felt like a small relief in what was too much grief and heartache. Anakin knew the moment he saw Obi-wan he would collapse in his arms and cry for hours. The weight of everything made Anakin's chest feel tight, like a failing dam just moments away from breaking.

Just as he opened the doors from the healing halls to the main temple corridor, Anakin saw Master Windu, along with another Master that Anakin knew he had met before, but couldn't remember the name of. He had dark gray hair, a wide set nose and olive skin. Anakin could tell by their trajectory that they had meant to come for him. And that made him uneasy, especially since Obi-wan was still nowhere to be seen.

"Masters," Anakin said with light suspicion, nodding politely as they strode to meet him.

"Anakin, we meant to get to you before you were released." Mace said, a frown in his eyes. "Why don't you come with us to one of my chambers? We can talk there." He added, knowing already Anakin's incessant nature.

"What's this about?" Anakin asked, a bad feeling sinking into his bones.

"It would really be best if you came with us. All your questions will be answered, I promise you." Mace said, handling the situation with as much tact as the man was capable of.

Anakin felt his chest pull tighter, the crack in his defenses that held all the overwhelming emotion at bay becoming larger. "Where's my Master?" Anakin asked in a pathetic voice, well devoid of any pride. At the moment, he could care less.

Mace sighed irritably, crossing his arms and casting his gaze downwards. "This is exactly what I was hoping to avoid," He said under his breath.

The other Jedi stepped forward. There was an intrinsic authority about him, and something else that seemed a shade darker than most Jedi. Anakin found it intriguing, but only in passing because he had much more pressing issues at hand, such as the whereabouts of his Master.

"Anakin, that's what we need to talk to you about. But you don't want to do this here." The man motioned to the small crowd that was ammassing in the distance. A group of younglings no older than eleven chattered on down the corridor inconspicuously, desperately acting as if they weren't eavesdropping although it was apparent that they were.

But Anakin couldn't be concerned. As his heart dropped to his stomach and his palms went cold and clammy, everything and everyone felt a world away.

"Is he dead?" Anakin asked, his voice quiet and level. No, there was no way Obi-wan could have died. Anakin would have felt it. He would have felt it like a blow to the back of his ribs, taking his breath away. The pain he was feeling now was different. Maybe even worse.

"No, Obi-wan isn't dead." Mace said in measured words. "Anakin, let's talk about this in private."

No, he's not dead. But he is gone. Anakin could feel the truth of it like a burning ache deep in his core. The precursor to an all out breakdown began to count down inside of him. He could feel his body tremble, his eyes fill with tears. Obi-wan would be upset with him for not better controlling his emotions, for always acting like a youngling. But that didn't matter any more.

The other Jedi spoke again, his words kind, solemn, and strangely reverent. "Obi-wan took the Barash vow this morning. You know what that means."

"What?" Anakin said distantly as a burst of anguish shot through his soul, like a silent scream into the void.

"When you are ready to resume training, I'll be taking you on as Padawan. You probably don't remember my name. I'm Master Tholme." He said gently.

Anakin had nothing to respond with. He shook his head back and forth with empty, distant eyes. There were no questions like why or how. There was only the harrowing emptiness that took place of anything else he might have felt. Obi-wan had taken a piece of him a long time ago. Without him, he was nothing.

Mace sighed, forever aggravated. "I hope you understand why we had hoped to speak to you about this in private." He said with some empathy, more than Anakin was used to receiving from the man.

After a lengthy pause, Anakin spoke with a quiet empty voice. "I... don't feel well. I'm going to go back to my quarters and lay down."

Mace along with Anakin's new appointed Master stood in place as Anakin left them. The temple might have been a familiar place to him, but Anakin wandered feeling more lost than ever before. He let his legs carry him down the corridor and around the bend. Once he found himself alone, he took off in an all out sprint towards the apartments.

He stumbled through the door to his once-shared living quarters with a sob in his chest. The space felt eerily void of his Master's signature. Tears slipped down his face silently as Anakin pulled the door to Obi-wan's empty room open.

Here, he could feel him the most. It wasn't much, but it was all he had now. And eventually with time every last trace of Obi-wan's presence would fade away leaving Anakin with truly nothing. Anakin kicked off his boots and climbed under Obi-wan's covers, throwing his arms around the man's pillow before he allowed the dam to fully break.

….

Obi-wan could feel it like a shockwave blasting through him, stealing the air from his lungs and strength from his bones. Had he been standing, he might have fallen to his knees from the sheer immensity of it all. He felt the waves of agonizing grief pool around him accusingly, drowning him out. Obi-wan clenched his eyes shut and focused on his breath, willing himself to stay calm, trying to stay the tears from escaping down his face. More hurt and pain roared through him. Obi-wan knew what it ment.

Anakin was awake. And he knew.

Obi-wan would have taken on all of the suffering if he could. Anakin didn't deserve any of it. He wished there had been some other way, any other way than what it had come to. Of course he had exhausted all other options. There was nothing else. Obi-wan knew it was going to be difficult, and that this moment would be the most challenging. He just had to breathe through the pain, and hope that Anakin remembered to breathe, too.

Things would get better with time. Obi-wan had to believe that, for Anakin's sake at least. Obi-wan would go on with his self loathing, but Anakin would heal. His pain would recede. The assault ravaging their bond would quiet eventually.

Anakin would move on.

Without him.

The thought gripped his chest.

"Bartender, a drink?" Obi-wan waved his hand, hiding his Jedi robes under the shroud of brown cloak that swallowed him whole.

The handsome young Mirialan woman tending behind the counter winked at him, pouring up another of what he had last. What it was, Obi-wan hadn't been sure. Not that it mattered.

He had nestled himself in the back corner of the first bar he passed once he descended to the lower levels below the temple and senate district. It was seedy to be sure, but close to the temple. Close to Anakin.

And this was only his second drink, afterall. It was important to keep up appearances to blend in as one of the locals if he were going to make things work. And he needed to make it work, so he would do anything that entailed. Obi-wan acknowledged the drinking stemmed more from his own acute depression than the need to fit in. But it certainly didn't work against his agenda by any means.

"Here you go hon," The Mirialan woman said graciously, setting down the frosty mug by his hand. Obi-wan slipped her a few credits for the drink along with a generous tip for her service.

"You don't happen to know if anyone around this block is hiring, do you?" Obi-wan asked, the question laughably contrary to his posh Coruscanti accent and finely pressed robes. He could sense the woman's amusement at his query, and appreciated how expertly it was hidden beneath her charismatic discretion.

"The waste management plant just past the edge of this district is always hiring. They've got high turnover but more than adequate pay." The woman said, an edge of reluctance that was just barely audible.

"Really?" Obi-wan asked, prodding her to continue.

"Well, I should warn you, that place is notorious for workplace injuries and deaths. I'd hate to see a pretty thing like you get chewed up and spit out by a place like that." She said, putting a hand on her hip.

"Thank you for the information. And for the drink." Obi-wan nodded with a small smile. It was one completely and painfully faked. But such was his entire facade. Anything more than collapsing into a sobbing heap would be as plastic as could be. At least drinks were good for lightening one's mood, even if only to an extent. Too much and he risked tipping into the heavy end of his sorrows. And that, he wasn't sure he would be able to climb out of all on his own.

Obi-wan took a sip of the bitter brew in his mug, hoping it might dull his senses. If he drank enough, he wouldn't be able to feel Anakin's debilitating grief gnawing at him from the other end of their bond. He could cut it off altogether, sever the cord, but Obi-wan didn't want to. He walled off his end as well as he knew how, not wanting Anakin to sense him or try to find him. But if he cut Anakin off he wouldn't be able to sense if he was in danger. He wouldn't be able to help him. And that was the entire point of taking the Barash Vow to begin with.

To keep Anakin safe.

Because if Zaann had scrounged up enough half cooked research on the Chosen One prophecies to create the plans that he had, it wasn't far fetched to think that there were others out there waiting to strike. To use Anakin. And eventually, kill him. The council wouldn't ever suspect it. Mace had assured him of it when Obi-wan had spoken of the possibility.

No. Obi-wan knew the only one who could really protect Anakin from such threats, was himself. Only Anakin needed protecting from his old Master, as well. It was a complicated predicament that made Obi-wan laugh cynically with hot tears stinging in his eyes.

He could suffer. And he would. But Anakin would be alright. That was all that mattered.

Obi-wan wiped the tears from his eyes on the sleeve of his cloak briskly and ran a hand over his face, resting his hand on his chin. What had the woman said? High turnover, good pay, but dangerous.

Obi-wan had no doubt he could handle the hazards of nearly any job. And there was a good chance of hiding his force abilities enough to seem like someone with incredibly good luck rather than Jedi training. And if not? There were always mind tricks, blackmail, and other jobs to be had. But good pay was a good starting point. Nothing in Coruscant was free, and housing was at an all time premium.

Obi-wan took a breath, then took another drink as yet another wave of heartache crashed into him. He looked listlessly into his mug of amber colored escape. It would get better in time.

It had to.

….

It didn't take Obi-wan long to snag a position at the waste management plant. It especially helped that he was more than willing, eagerly and eerily so as far as the interviewers were concerned, to take on the more dangerous positions in the facility. Although they asserted firmly that he would be starting out in one of the more low risk positions, Obi-wan could sense that there was room to move upwards in job as well as pay. But for now he would be working in the sorting room.

And the sorting room was not so much a room, as it was an entire city block three levels high filled to the brim with different sorting, waste decay and upcycle centers. And for the time being, Obi-wan would be the lead janitor. He only hoped that the job would help him escape the worsening bouts of grief that assaulted him multiple times a day at unpredictable times. His own guilt was hard enough to handle. Feeling Anakin's anguish and not being able to do anything about it nearly brought him to his knees.

He knew eventually things would lessen. Obi-wan truly hated himself in those moments, and wanted nothing more than to hold Anakin in his arms. But he knew that was never going to happen. The only thing he would be doing was dispatching cleaner droids, repairing broken mechs, and resisting the urge to drown himself with drink at the end of every shift.

Never in his life did he think he would ever be taking a job as a janitor. Though desperate times called for desperate measures. And even though his title was less than menial, the pay was considerable for that level of Coruscant. And that was the most important.

If he was able to earn enough, he could keep an apartment in the upper most part of what was considered the lower levels. If he saved up for two more weeks he would be able to pay a deposit for nearly any flat on the level he was seeking. Needless to say, it would be easier to take care of Anakin that way, in the chance that he needed taking care of. That was his true purpose, beyond the grimy work that awaited him each morning in the sorting room. He was just on call indefinitely.

….

An entire week had passed, and Anakin found himself feeling just as empty as he had when he first learned the news. Obi-wan was gone, and he wasn't coming back. Anakin couldn't even feel him on the other end of their bond. Every time he reached across to find it empty, his soul felt like it was breaking.

In spite of his dreary state, a call came through to him on the seventh day after his release from the healing halls. It was one Anakin couldn't refuse even if he had wanted to. But much to Anakin's relief, it had been a summons from the only other being in the galaxy he felt he could speak freely with, aside from his former Master. Anakin supposed that made him now the only being to which he could be totally honest with. Or mostly, anyhow.

When Anakin arrived to the man's grand office, he felt like he might burst into tears all over again. It had become quite the habit with him over the last week while in self imposed quarantine in Obi-wan's old quarters, barely leaving to eat.

The Chancellor welcomed Anakin with open arms as he settled on the sofa at the far end of his office as he had so many times before. Only the circumstances around their visits were usually much more casual. Now, Palpatine's eyes held a certain amount of concern as he placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, settling down beside him.

"Anakin, how good to see you. I've heard you have been through quite an ordeal." Palpatine said, skimming over the gist of things. "It seems we have much catching up to do." The man said with kind, weary eyes.

The weight of the title Chancellor hung heavy on him as of late, bringing darker circles to rest under his tranquil eyes, and more wrinkles to his cheeks with every passing month.

Still with all of his duties and obligations to the Senate, Palpatine always managed to find time for Anakin. After the conflict on Naboo all those years ago, they had fostered a friendship of sorts. He always listened with graceful impartiality, and was removed from the dogma of the Jedi, so Anakin knew he wouldn't be chastised for his feelings.

So Anakin didn't restrain himself much as everything rushed out of him in one torrential flood. Palpatine sat patiently as Anakin told most of the harrowing tales from Kraysiss Two, about Zaann and Jerot, how the boy had died saving him and Obi-wan.

Well, really, in the rush of retelling the story, Anakin had referred to him as his Master still. The Chancellor had been quick to catch his slip up.

"But Obi-wan isn't your Master anymore, is he?" Palpatine asked, likely knowing the answer already.

Anakin had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could speak. "...No," he said, his vocal chords straining around the word.

"I'm so sorry. I know you two were very close." The Chancellor said consolingly, empathetic pain carved into his wrinkled features. Then, there was a pause before he spoke again.

"You know, I can't help but wonder why he left. He's taken the… Barash vow, I believe it's called? I wonder what drove him to do it." Palpatine said open endedly.

Anakin's heart wrenched. "I know why." He said, his words trembling on the edge of a sob.

It was all he had been thinking about that entire week, incapacitated and crippled from the heartbreak that was still too fresh. His thoughts circled him with blame and fault in the most damning ways that he couldn't pull out of by himself. He didn't even think he wanted to.

Palpatine looked at him with steady patience, waiting for him to regain composure and continue. Only composure was impossible to achieve.

"It's all my fault," Anakin choked out, before completely unraveling. He buried his face in his hands and shuddered with gut wrenching sobs gripping his core.

Palpatine put an arm around him in a kind, supportive embrace. "My dear boy, I hardly think that could be the case."

Anakin hugged himself tightly and cried even harder. The Chancellor waited, one hand gently resting across the boy's shoulders, the other on a box of tissue to offer Anakin once his sobbing subsided.

And after he had cried himself out of tears, Anakin told the Chancellor things that he didn't think he would ever tell anyone. And the man sat tirelessly attentive all the while, only revealing his shock after Anakin had divulged everything there was to tell. His chest felt lighter, but the weight of his trauma still felt like stone in his stomach.

"Anakin, I'm so sorry this has happened to you." Palpatine said in a gravely serious tone. "And for Obi-wan to abandon you after everything…"

Anakin's chest lit with the aftershock of grief. It was dull, and soon would be overtaken by more sadness and self loathing, but Anakin could feel the unmistakable spark of anger light behind his ribs.

Anger for Obi-wan for leaving him like he meant nothing.

"But I'm sure Obi-wan had his reasons." Palpatine amended. "Perhaps he's afraid he's not good for you. Maybe he can't trust himself." He said, gently damning the man.

"You almost can't blame him, to a point. I know he cares about you a great deal." The Chancellor said, meaning to reassure, but falling terribly short.

"I just don't know what else I was supposed to do." Anakin lamented emptily.

"There isn't anything you could have done." Palpatine said sternly. "Now listen to me, Anakin. All of this has been absolutely awful for you to go through. But you didn't do anything wrong."

"It doesn't feel that way." Anakin said, dejected. "He left because he knew how I felt. I should never have told him. Then he would still be here."

"That's impossible to know, as well as highly unlikely." Palpatine countered in a more gentle tone.

"He just thinks I'm confused because of what happened. You do too, don't you?" Anakin said in an accusing tone, suddenly feeling raw and exposed.

"I think what happened could have been confusing." The Chancellor said carefully.

"I'm not confused about how I feel." Anakin said obstinately.

He was at first, but he had been able to sort through his feelings. He knew that regardless of what had happened back on Kraysiss Two, he had fallen in love. That it had been a slow process, one that had begun long ago. He just hadn't seen it. But he loved Obi-wan for all of his irritating quirks, for the way he looked when he was deep in thought, for how he had never given up on him. Well, not until recently, at least.

"I never said you were." Chancellor Palpatine said softly. "I think you are grieving. It is completely normal and more than understandable. You just need time and space to decompress."

"I just need to get away from the Order," Anakin said irritably. "They already tried to pawn me off on someone else. But I don't want to train under anyone else. What's the point?"

"Anakin, you would be giving up everything you've ever worked for." Chancellor Palpatine said, concerned.

"I've already lost everything anyway." Anakin retorted darkly.

"Now that is hardly the truth." Palpatine said gently. "You just need time. Maybe there is someone at the temple you can talk to about all of this. Surely there must be someone who can help."

"I can never speak a word of this to the Council. If they knew what happened… nothing good would come of it."

"Are you certain?" Palpatine asked with soft skepticism.

"According to the Order, I'm not even allowed to feel what I feel." Anakin said with growing anger.

"I'm sorry Anakin, I didn't mean to doubt you. Sometimes I forget the rules and stipulations Jedi are made to live by. Some of them seem rather… excessive." Palpatine said lightly.

"And that's why I need out." Anakin said resolutely. "I can't do it anymore."

"Anakin, I think you should reconsider." Palpatine said earnestly. "You will be a great Jedi Knight. With time I know you will find your place on the council. Then you will have the power to make changes yourself. It would be a tragic loss for all beings in the galaxy if you were to give up now."

Anakin listened with a dull ear, numbed by the pain that still ached in his heart. His loss still too fresh. "That's very kind of you to say Chancellor, but I… I don't know." Without Obi-wan the idea of any achievement seemed empty and void of meaning.

"My boy, just give it time. And if you need space, I have more than enough to spare. I have a guest apartment, actually. It's been empty for quite some time now. I can have it furnished for you, if you like. Consider it yours- a place where you can rest without the Council breathing down your neck." Palpatine said with a small smile.

Anakin's eyes widened. "Are you sure? I don't think I could…" Anakin said, stumbling over his words through his surprise.

"Nonsense, of course you can. Afterall, you are more family to me than most of my own blood relatives." Palpatine said, a smile in his eyes.

However he felt reluctant to accept, Anakin did like the idea of having a space to call his own. It wasn't for Jedi to have possessions, and he wasn't one to become attached to objects to begin with. But the idea of having a place where he could be absolutely undisturbed sounded heavenly.

"Thank you, Chancellor. I don't know what to say." Anakin said, nearly speechless. "I won't ever be able to repay you."

"No need to say anything. And if you want to repay me? Just keep training. It will get better, I promise. Everything mends in time."