Chapter 5 – Memories

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Anakin doesn't look at Obi-Wan or Ahsoka, even as the landscape changes around them, shifting into something else. Somewhere else. It's a memory. It's distinctly different from what the paradise world was like. Unlike there, Obi-Wan realizes he can feel faint echoes of emotions and thoughts, reminding him that they are, in fact, in Anakin's mind. They're standing in a hut lit by burning candles. Pain. Fear. Desperation. The emotions hover thickly in the air around them.

"No. No," mumbles Vader, falling to his knees and closing his eyes, right hand clenching into a fist. "Not this."

Obi-Wan is about to say something when movement catches his eyes. He turns, nearly gasping aloud at the sight before him. Anakin – looking as though he's still a Padawan – is crouched on the ground, cradling a woman in his arms. She's dying, and Obi-Wan can feel Anakin's horror all around them. It's his mother, he realizes. This is the memory of when she died.

"Now… I am complete," Shmi's voice is barely above a whisper, her hand reaching up to cup Anakin's face. Don't die. Don't die. I need you. The thought is loud enough that Obi-Wan hears it as though it was actually spoken aloud. He can see that Shmi had been beaten and tortured badly, probably for as long as Anakin had been having the nightmares. The thought sends a pang through him. If he'd done something, perhaps she wouldn't have died.

"Mom," Anakin breathes, desperately.

She doesn't even seem to hear him. "I… love –" her weak voice trails off, her head falling limply against Anakin's arm. Obi-Wan can almost hear the silent screams of denial, as pain and grief morph to rage. Anakin doesn't move for a long moment, holding his mother's dead body tightly in his arms. Those are emotions Obi-Wan can understand all too well, especially since Qui-Gon had died in his arms.

Almost robotically, Anakin lays his mother on the ground, rage burning so strongly that Obi-Wan is rooted to the spot. "Oh Force," murmurs Ahsoka, horror and sadness in her eyes. "I had no idea."

Nor did he. Anakin never talked about what happened. He'd only said that she had died. The Padawan stands up, his hatred reaching a new climax. Obi-Wan glances at Vader. His eyes are closed, but Obi-Wan knows that he's still reexperiencing the entire memory. They killed her. They killed her. They took her away from me. Anakin stalks out of the hut, igniting his lightsaber and cutting down the two Tusken guards outside. All Obi-Wan can do is watch in horror as Anakin mercilessly slaughters every living being in the camp.

He had known, of course, what had happened. In his time on Tatooine, Qui-Gon had told him about it, and he'd heard the legends, but seeing it is so much worse. It makes him realize that he had definitely failed as a teacher. He should have been better, done something differently to prevent this tragedy from occurring. And this was, he realizes, the first time Anakin touched the Dark Side, even though the circumstances were understandable.

He hardly has time to consider when the memory changes violently. Somehow, Obi-Wan knows that the Sith spirit is going to drag this out even longer than usual. He can feel her feeding the Dark Side into Anakin's mind, forcing him to relive his worst memories. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the scene taking form.

Ahsoka – the memory-Ahsoka – is cradling memory-Obi-Wan's body. He remembers this. It's when he faked his death to go on the undercover mission. He can feel the tumultuous emotions ricocheting around them. "How is he?" Anakin's asks tentatively, fear and desperation echoing into the Force.

Memory-Ahsoka looks up at him, tears glistening in her eyes, and he can feel the unmitigated horror and denial surging up. "Obi-Wan!" Anakin cries out, panicked, crouching down, and touching his former master as he lays limp and unmoving. "Obi-Wan!" Master, no. You can't leave me. I need you. I love you. Don't do this to me. You can't – can't die on me.

Vader doesn't move, though his tense posture betrays that he's acutely aware of everything playing out. It would have been better if he'd died then. Obi-Wan gets a faint glimpse of the thought before it's hidden, though the raw pain doesn't fade, unlike the scene around them which shifts to something so faint, he can't make anything out.

"I'm worried about Anakin," memory-Ahsoka's soft voice echoes, barely audible as she stands next to Master Plo. "He hasn't said a word since it happened."

"I didn't know he heard me," murmurs Ahsoka, shifting next to him, expression pinched.

The pain around them is so potent, it can almost be physically felt. He can feel – faintly – the twisting agony which had wrenched apart Anakin's world. The scene shifts to Anakin and Ahsoka's apartment at the Temple. It's nighttime, and they're standing in front of the window, holding onto each other. Obi-Wan instinctively knows they're both crying, the information shared with him from Vader's mind.

"He was so much better than me," Anakin chokes out. He was my world, and I don't know how I can live without him. I love Padme, but Obi-Wan is – was – my father. My brother. My mentor. My best friend. There's no one else I would rather be with. "I could have saved him. I should have saved him. I always have, until now – and – it's my fault. I could have done something differently, and he'd still be here."

Vader's withdrawing into himself, locking his current thoughts and emotions so tightly away that Obi-Wan can hardly even feel him. Looking back, seeing this very intimate view of Anakin's mind, Obi-Wan can't help but wonder how much he influenced Anakin's decision to join Sidious. He'd never sensed pain on that magnitude before, and he has no idea how Anakin hid it, but he clearly did. He walked around, acting as though everything was perfectly fine, as though – in his words – his universe hadn't been upended.

So much has changed between then and now, and Obi-Wan hopes that it isn't too late to reach him, that the heart of Anakin is truly still there. He saw it, but he doesn't know if it can win. As the scene begins shifting again, he questions his own actions, how much he tried to get Anakin to conform to the Jedi way. Was he only hurting him, making him be someone other than himself? He doesn't know anymore. Everything he thought was true wasn't. All he can do now, is trust in the Force to guide him and hope, for everyone's sakes, that it's not too late to reach Anakin.

**w**

Ahsoka shifts, uncomfortable with seeing something so personal in Anakin's mind. These are all the things that made him Vader, the things he regrets or hurts from the most. The next scene freezes her to the spot, and she can feel the twisted mess of hope, heartbreak, and fear as Anakin confronts her memory-self.

"The Jedi Order is your life. You can't just throw it away like this. Ahsoka, you are making a mistake." He sounds so desperate, even as he tries to make himself sound certain. He was right, she realizes. Maybe she shouldn't have left. Surely, Anakin would never have left her had he been in her place. Please don't leave me. I can't lose another person. His thoughts, which she can now acutely hear, hit her with a crippling sense of guilt.

"Maybe, but I have to sort this out on my own, without the Council… and without you," memory-Ahsoka replies quietly.

Her words are followed by a surge of disbelief and pain. "I understand. More than you realize, I understand wanting to walk away from the Order." Like now. Everyone has left me but Padme. She's the only one I have left, the only one who won't betray me.

"I know." It's all memory-Ahsoka says before she turns and slowly walks away. Ahsoka is numb with shock at his thoughts. He didn't count Obi-Wan anymore, and she wonders how she couldn't have realized before. It was so glaringly obvious that Anakin had lost his trust in almost everyone, but still, he never shared, and everyone assumed he was fine.

"You made me into this," hisses Vader, glowering at them from his position on the ground. He probably intended to sound more menacing, but his voice is shaking too badly. She wants to hug him, but she knows it would not be well received. He can hold grudges with a vengeance, and forgiveness won't come easily.

Obi-Wan's expression is twisted with guilt. He doesn't speak, much as he looks like he wants to. She considers saying something, but the Dark Side swells as the Sith spirit forces it into Vader's mind, sending them spiraling into something new. The Council chambers. Feelings of darkness and death hang in the air, as a few younglings come out from hiding, drawn in by the familiar figure who entered the room. Anakin.

Ahsoka frowns, trying to place the scene, but a quick glance at Obi-Wan's horrified expression clues her in quickly. Order 66. She can feel Anakin's determination and resignation as he steps forward, hand gripping his lightsaber. "Master Skywalker, there are too many of them! What are we going to do?" a young boy asks, face filled with fear.

"No!" Vader screams, lashing out, throwing his power brutally against the assault and wrenching them out before it can continue. He's kneeling on the floor, chest heaving, body trembling, horror and guilt and pain circling around him so strongly, Ahsoka isn't sure how he's been able to live with it. She takes hope in his guilt. If he feels guilty, he's not completely lost.