1. past tense
they were.heroes, brothers, unlikely friends - a long time ago. yesterday. in past lives. mortal enemies now, and wasn't it clean a clean slate like a lightsaber running you through...
...they were fighting, fiercely, desperately, past old scars and fresh wounds, past blood and reason, breaking rules and quite possibly the world, for
they were so angry.
they were so angry they forgot, and betrayal tasted the same to them, burning bitter intoxicating, bloody furious because rage does make one see red...
they were fighting dirty, and Anakin was falling apart. it was too much for him, had always been too much power passion love hate fear too strong to handle for just a boy - a man
it had changed him, molded him into something not quite human with just enough left to give the closest, loved ones a hope,
just enough to make Obi-Wan pull back as though it was another training fight...
"How dare you!"
that did it. he felt Anakin's rage flare like a nova, shatter their world's already feeble foundations, knock the air out of him and the lightsaber out of his hands, rip through
he felt a phantom hand close in an iron grip around his throat, and two real ones twist in his shredded robe. Anakin, their Chosen One, their golden boy, ablaze and too close
"You dare say you loved me... Then you shouldn't have fucked with me."
he did not close his eyes. Anakin tasted like blood and fire, like murder, like madness, like death golden-eyed laughing death when something gave and broke and turned upside down -
- and they were fucking, brutally, hatefully and absurdly, there, in the yawning mouth of hell
Anakin's thrusts wracking his body, Anakin's blind fury tight around his mind, so much like barbed wire, metal and cinder cut into his palms and knees, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe
he was still, if just barely, breathing and thinking, wondering what would snap first: his back or the strip of a bridge they clung to
Anakin's fingers were leaving burns and bruises desperate, he would not stop if the flames swallowed them whole, and it was not working their bond ripped, twisted, torn raw, caught up in this self-destructing circle of fear-hate-violence
for nothing Anakin did to him could hurt more, and
pain exploded beautifully fading stars, then blackout
...Anakin's release hit them both unawares, the last burst of incandescent white, breaking his death grip, severed and cauterized
he did not feel himself fall.
he did not feel himself rise either, only saw Anakin step back and lick his dry lips. poor wide-eyed burning up Anakin. saw fine tremors run through that perfect body
they somehow always forgot what he was.
he tried to say something, he would remember the want but forget the words, only his mouth was too dry, his throat hurt too badly, so he did not get past a couple of gasps
spread his hands helplessly, and reached out
it was not a blow, not even a touch, but the force of it caught the confused Sith up and pushed him gently over the edge.
they were no more.