Chapter 19 – Of Existential Crises

Author's Note: Disclaimer, Yoda is the galaxy's greatest troll. It's not even funny. ;_;

~ Rivana Rita

Ahsoka, quite frankly, has no idea what's happening. Apparently, Master Kenobi already knew? And Master Skywalker hasn't told the Council yet?

Something is clearly wrong, and she doesn't know what.

Except that her master looks like he's about to cry, and she has absolutely no idea what to do about that, either, because that's impossible. Jedi don't do that – they don't get so emotional, at least not when they're older.

Anakin sighs, looking away when the doors close. His hand drops from her shoulder to her lower arm, and she doesn't pull away. None of this makes sense, and – and – what?

"You time-travelled," she says, because that's an easier topic to address. "Didn't you?"

He nods shakily, moving to lay down again. Ahsoka shuffles, tempted to move over to him but she doesn't know if it's… invasive.

"It's fine," Anakin says a bit roughly, as if sensing her question. Ahsoka seats herself lightly on the edge of his bed. "Yes, I did," he answers with a soft sigh. "I did time-travel. I don't know how it happened. I thought I was going to die, but I came back instead."

"But why wouldn't you have told the Council?" Ahsoka queries, confused. That's what doesn't make sense to her.

"Something happened between us," he answers, shifting a little, "And I couldn't speak to them right away. Afterwards, I suppose I have been… not thinking clearly. It was simpler not to."

"So… you trained me?" It makes sense now, why he was always looking at her as though expecting to see another. It had angered her, and it still does, but it makes sense.

"I tried, and I… failed." Anakin sighs softly, and Ahsoka glances over at him.

"Failed how?" That doesn't make sense.

"You left the Order," he confesses, "That is why I was… unsure about training you again. It wasn't about you; it was… her, but you're not."

"That explains it," she grumbles. He didn't seem angry about it, but he was obviously bothered, and she didn't like seeing him like that. It had upset her, too.

"Was it that obvious?"

"Yes. You looked at me like you were seeing a ghost most of the time." Though she still can't begin to understand how she could've left the Order. That's insane. Did she lose her mind? How could she possibly leave this life behind?

"I'm sorry, Ahsoka. I didn't mean to make you feel unwanted."

"You could have told me what it was from the beginning," Ahsoka replies sullenly. She would've liked to know – she could never understand what was wrong, or if there was just something wrong with him.

"Yes, I should have," Anakin agrees. "You had a right to know. I've been trying to do it by myself, but I…"

"What's the future like?" Ahsoka inquires, "Was the war still going on? And what happened to me then?" She's just curious, okay?

"Yes, it was," he replies, "We were… close. Obi-Wan wasn't assisting in your training. He might pitch in now and then on missions, but it wasn't official. That was only me."

"Did future me lose my mind?" she can't help asking.

"Why would you think that?"

"Why would she ever have left the Order? That doesn't make any sense."

"I am quite certain she was mentally stable," he answers, an odd note in his voice, "And I truly don't understand. The Council wronged her, and she walked away. As Jedi, we should not hold it against them, yet she did, and I do not understand why."

It's complicated, but does it really matter? It's neither here nor there. It's a different time. Ahsoka doesn't know how to tell Anakin that, though. "Are you alright?" she asks instead, remember the desperate fear tearing her apart when she saw the Malevolence make the hyperspace jump.

"It's getting better," Anakin reassures, "Were you? I knew escaping would not be easy."

She had been certain she would make it out, but looking back, Ahsoka knows how close that could've come to going very badly. "I was fine," she promises, "Master Plo, too. One of the clones was injured, but we all made it."

"Good."

"Well, if you time-traveled, shouldn't you have something we need to speed up the war?" Ahsoka asks – she doesn't know, but she's guessing.

"I can hope," he nods, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She moves closer instantly, soaking up his warmth, letting relief flood her after the days they spent apart with Ahsoka fearing how long it would be before he she saw him again. She's also not quite sure what to think about the fact that Master Kenobi was very blatantly hurting him, though that's a little fact she would much prefer to ignore.

**w**

Sleeping isn't easy, not when he's so bothered by so many things. What was he thinking? How could he have believed anything Dooku was saying was more than a trick? But what if it wasn't a trick? He wants to… tell someone, but he can't. It's not so easy. He can't trust anyone, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were both right. He should have told the Council a long time ago. If he had, perhaps something could already have been done. He's doing the exact same thing he's upset at Ahsoka for doing, but he's not exactly angry at her. She abandoned him, which led to his death by inclusion, his time-travel, and it's been easier to blame her for leaving than accept that everyone he knew is gone. That fact alone is enough to flood him with a crushing emptiness.

But it wasn't really Ahsoka's fault it happened – yes, she left, which lead to it, but Anakin still chose to take that fall, and the Force chose to send him back. He should be grateful he can change the future. Should be grateful that the Force gave him a second chance to make it right with his padawan.

He can't believe he talked to Obi-Wan like that. It was…. he can't remember the last time he's hated himself so much. Obi-Wan is on the Council, and he has things to do, but Anakin told him to go away when he should have been grateful that his master took time to come see him. He didn't have to do that.

And being stuck in the medbay doesn't help either.

What Anakin is not expecting is for Master Yoda to show up. Seriously. In the middle of the night.

This is not normal.

"Came to speak with you, I have," Master Yoda says, as if this is a perfectly ordinary occurrence. Anakin would've thought even the Jedi Grandmaster would stay as far from medbays as physically possible if it were an option.

"Yes," Anakin says, blinking a few times. He's seated at the edge of the bed they gave him – he misses his own. Anxiety twists inside him suddenly. What if Yoda knows he… no. That's impossible. And he wasn't siding with a Sith, either. "Is… everything alright, Master?"

"Answer this question, you should," the Jedi Master replies. "Sensed a disturbance in the Force when on Christophsis you were, I did."

"That was a while ago," Anakin answers slowly.

"Seen a change in you since, I have. Ready for a padawan, perhaps, you were not?"

He hates how nervous he feels. "No – no, Ahsoka is not the problem." Not her. She could never.

"Changed, your presence has. Darkened. Explain this, can you?"

Did Obi-Wan tell him? Anakin suppresses the surge of betrayal it makes him feel. It makes him feel inadequate, useless to admit any sort of weakness to the Grandmaster, but he doesn't know any other way around it. "I fear failing her."

"Failure?" he asks, pacing a short distance around Anakin, which makes him feel far smaller than should be possible. Interacting with a being so… ancient, who has seen generations before Anakin was born and will, perhaps, even after, has that effect. But Yoda, at least, will never take advantage of it the way others do. "Or loss, this is? In time you must let go."

He… doesn't know the answer to that because the thought of seeing Ahsoka leaving again floods him with a sort of raw, blinding panic. "I… don't know." He wishes he did.

"Let go, when the time comes, we all must," Yoda reminds, "A part of a Jedi's life, this is. Mourn those lost, we cannot. At peace, they are, in the Force. Miss them, do not. The shadow of greed, this is."

He thinks of the gaping void of emptiness that consumed him when his mother's body stilled in his arms, and of when he held his – Obi-Wan's body, knowing that they were gone and that he failed them, and he had the power to save them but didn't, because he wasn't strong enough. And he remembers again with a sharp and cutting agony, Ahsoka's light footsteps disappearing down the Temple steps. I don't want to be alone, he wants to say.

Except he already knows what Yoda would say to that – alone, we are not. Ones with the Force, we are.

And he won't let any more of his weakness, his failures be shown. "I understand," he says instead, softly.

That doesn't mean he'll ever be able to stop seeing Ahsoka everywhere he looks, and when he wishes he didn't, he automatically feels guilty for it. Ahsoka is too good to be forgotten, and he… doesn't understand how to do it. He never really has. So maybe, saying he understands is a lie, but… what else could he say?

"I sense great fear in you."

"What must I do, Master Yoda?" he asks – it still feels like he's being crushed, drowning in his fear and failure and everything, and he can't even remember how to find light anymore. Something is definitely wrong with him.

"Train yourself to let go, of all that you fear to lose."

Anakin watches him leave, wishing it would've been enough to take away the crushing depression he's being struggling with. How is he supposed to be a Jedi if he's feeling like this? If he's so overwhelmed with his own struggles, he can't see past it?

**w**

Ahsoka, of course, is showing up at every available minute until Anakin is finally released from the medbay (after a very long lecture he doesn't care to remember from the healers) two days later. He couldn't be more relieved to be out, but this also means he needs to confront a very long list of things. Starting with the fact that there's a concerningly high chance that he may not even be able to trust Palpatine. He can't trust anyone anymore, and he loathes it. He'll have to talk to Palpatine again, but he's dreading it – either he'll find out Dooku was telling the truth, or that he wasn't, and Anakin doesn't want to confront the fact that he trusted Dooku over the only person who never lied or manipulated him. And he doesn't want to believe that his friend is a Sith either, because what will that mean?

He'll drop by at Padme's and on his cruiser sometime, too, but now… he needs to talk to Obi-Wan. He needs to apologize, very badly. What he did was… awful. Insensitive is a severe understatement of what it was. He can't believe he did that.

It's later in the day, after a Council meeting, when he finally manages to talk to Obi-Wan – before then, he'd been busy attending to other Jedi things. Classes, paperwork, Ahsoka, whatever Obi-Wan himself is probably still busy, and maybe Anakin can… offer to help with that as something of an apology, because that was… and maybe he should consider telling the Council. After this, he'll talk to Padme and Rex. Then… he doesn't know. Either way, he's unbearably nervous as he enters Obi-Wan's apartment.

"Obi-Wan?" he asks cautiously. It's ridiculous how nervous he is. He just… hasn't tried pursuing their relationship in a long time, and he doesn't really know how to anymore. He doesn't feel like he knows what he's doing, or… anything.

"I see you're out of the medbay," he says, glancing up from where he's busy on a datapad – per usual.

"Yes. I… came to apologize. You were right. I have not been… thinking clearly lately."

Obi-Wan nods – that's the only form of acknowledgement he gives, and Anakin bites his lip. His master is clearly still angry at him, and he has no idea how else to make it right. He doesn't blame him, either.

"I'm being too demanding. Irresponsible." He stands there, waiting, but Obi-Wan doesn't say anything. Why isn't he saying anything? Did he go that far?

"I saw your… recordings," Obi-Wan says after a painfully long pause of quiet. "I've noticed you… changed."

"Changed?" Anakin asks. "What do you mean?"

"You used to be more open," he replies. "You've closed off entirely. I thought it was the war or what happened with Ahsoka, but now I see… it's something else." He sounds none too happy about that either. "You've closed yourself off from me, and I can't remember why."

Oh. This is… complicated. "What do you mean?" he asks instead, because he doesn't know how to answer that question.

"I still remember what you said about – you know. When we were protecting Senator Amidala."

Of course, Anakin knows what he's talking about. And he really, really does not want to talk about this. Some things hurt too much, and that was one of them – a dream, a fantasy, one he knows will and can never come true. He's demanding too much of Obi-Wan already to ask for something like that, and he already knows why Obi-Wan wouldn't want to be his father. Why should he? Why should anyone want anything with him, when all he does is fail?

"What… about it?" Anakin asks instead, trying to ignore how badly he wants to disappear.

"I know you don't trust me anymore," Obi-Wan replies, "I do not entirely understand why."

"It's complicated. And not something I wish to speak of."

"I know," his master replies, "But you spoke freely to Ahsoka, and even to Rex, in a way you never have to me since you were a padawan."

Did he? "Oh," is all Anakin can say in response to that. What else could he say? He didn't mean to upset Obi-Wan, but that's all he's capable of anyway, so the point is moot.

And yet, Obi-Wan is still looking at him searchingly as if he expects something. Anakin has no idea what Obi-Wan expects, though, so he can't give him that. He doesn't even know what it means.

"Can I… help you? Or…" Anakin ventures slowly. He doesn't know what Obi-Wan is thinking, and knowing his former master, he probably doesn't want to, anyway. Not if all Obi-Wan has to say is another very unflattering remark about how Anakin has no idea what he's doing as a Jedi. Like he doesn't already know that?

He's mildly surprised when Obi-Wan agrees and tells him to come sit down. Neither of them addresses the topic of whether Anakin will talk to the Council, though. Anakin can't bring himself to mention it – the guilt he's drowning in his too great – and Obi-Wan doesn't mention it, either. Anakin can't help wondering why it feels like something was irreparably broken, anyway. Or maybe it's just that being here is a reminder of what Master Yoda told him – that he needs to let go.

This isn't his Obi-Wan anymore. He is alone.

Not as if he ever wasn't.

**w**

Conversations with Obi-Wan always leave him feeling drained. Palpatine asked to talk to him, and Anakin is very wary of going to the Senate. He needs to talk to Padme as well, and Rex, but if Palpatine is asking for his presence, he can't… refuse. He never has, even if he doesn't want to go. He's not busy right now. So, he heads for the Senate, anyway – it's a private message by Palpatine, a very unusual way for them to talk, but it happens sometimes, usually if he just wants… Time. Anakin always appreciated it, even if he never understood it. Like right now.

Except he doesn't appreciate it nearly as much as he probably ought to right now.

To say he's nervous would be a severe understatement as he heads for the Chancellor's office. Jedi often go to the Senate building – there's nothing unusual about it – but it still feels like he's out of place or being suspicious or just something.

He could be going to talk to Darth Sidious himself, and if not… he almost hopes he is, because otherwise, he doesn't think he'll be able to handle the guilt of believing. What was wrong with him? What is…

He tries to release his anxiety into the Force as a Jedi should, just in case, because the last thing he needs is to handle this situation very badly.

He may not even get answers this time. That would be… so much worse.

"Anakin, my boy, it's so good to see you again." As for the Chancellor, he is, as always, happy to see Anakin. Clear your mind of assumptions, he reminds himself, entering the office.

Anakin nods – he doesn't bow anymore, not here, not where he can actually feel safe. Or used to, anyway. "It is good to be back," he replies, trying not to give anything away. Hiding. The same way he does at the Temple. Why is that all he can do anywhere? Why can he never feel free anymore? As if he needs the reminder, he sees Ahsoka disappearing in his mind and the sun setting as he stood there, alone.

"When I heard you were captured by the Separatists, I was most worried."

"I'm fine," Anakin replies immediately. The concern is… touching. It's not from someone who understands the extent of his abilities, which is what drives him crazy when Obi-Wan does this. And his master is only critical, demanding more. Palpatine is never like that. He – he couldn't.

"Your rescue attempt was staged remarkably, though I would have preferred you not put yourself at such great danger."

He hates how that makes him feel guilty. "It's my duty as a Jedi," Anakin replies firmly, "I had the power to help, and I couldn't turn it down."

"Of course," Palpatine agrees, "We all must make that choice, don't we?"

"Your destiny is split, Anakin Skywalker. Whether you be a Jedi or Sith, the choice is yours."

"You can make this decision alone. If you do not cast off these chains and free yourself, you will never find freedom, and the Dark will always call to you."

He swallows, ignoring the unease growing inside him. "Of course, Your Excellency."

For the first time in years, that smile unsettles him. It doesn't look sincere. It doesn't feel real, and Anakin loathes how everything with them feels so different, no thanks to Dooku. It would be so much easier to pretend nothing is wrong than to accept that there is.

"Is something troubling you, Anakin?" He seems so… caring, it's hard to think he may not be. And he is concerned. Anakin can sense that, and it can't be faked. It's just a question of what he's concerned about – no. He doesn't know Dooku wasn't lying to him.

"I fear the Sith have an interest in me," he says, because it's the truth, and one of the things he's most afraid of. He's not arrogant enough to presume he would never join the Sith, but he can't imagine what would ever make him do that. Nor can he imagine what it would take for the Jedi to stop him. Well, Obi-Wan could, but he doesn't know anyone except that, and he would much prefer not thinking about it at all.

"How terrifying," the Chancellor says sympathetically.

"You have no idea."

"Do you know why?" he inquires.

He's probing for answers, isn't he? Trying to determine whether Anakin knows the truth? "I imagine he sees something special about me," he replies, turning away. He can't look anywhere except at the floor, heart pounding. He wants to tell the Council his suspicions, but he knows Dooku is right – they would react irrationally just like they did with Ahsoka, and it might only worsen the situation. They would treat the suspicion as a fact and…

But he is scared. If this is Sidious, he has control of everything, and Anakin won't be able to do anything about it. No one can. He can't stop him. He can't end this. He can't do anything at all, except stand here and wait, hoping for some sign of… something.

This feels like a double conversation, and Anakin doesn't know if he's playing it right – he isn't good at mind-games. Never has been.

"You are special," he confirms, and Anakin's heart skips a beat – it's not a guarantee, but it feels like one. "You are the most gifted Jedi I have ever seen."

"Is that why?" Anakin has to ask, even if he's afraid to know, "Is that why you want to speak with me?" Is it that, or something more?

"This isn't about you."

"Perhaps we can speak more at length, later tonight?" Palpatine suggests. "You may come to my apartment. We can discuss this in a more private setting."

He has gone there before, but not… this is. He doesn't know, but he doesn't want to go. What choice is there, though? It's an order. Anakin isn't blind to that much – regardless of what the answer is, it's an order. He can't refuse it. "I will – be there," he says, hoping his voice doesn't sound as faint as it does to his own ears.

"This is only about us," he continues, and Anakin feels frozen, too frozen even to move when Palpatine lays a hand on his shoulder. It doesn't feel like it normally does either, but to be fair, he has never been entirely comfortable with it. Palpatine is the Chancellor. Anakin is… shouldn't be anything to him.

"I understand," he says, faintly.

He smiles. It sends a shiver down Anakin's spine. "Good."

Anakin backs out as soon as he has a chance.

**w**

Padme expected Anakin to return soon, but she's been waiting for him to show up all day. Keeping it a secret is difficult, overwhelmingly so sometimes, but she still wishes they didn't have to wait so long. It's extremely stressful to be unable to ask outright about her husband and if he's alright or… if something happened to him. All she does know is that it has been a couple days since he was freed, so it had to have been something.

He's always been stealthy, quiet, but she's still a little surprised that he managed to sneak into her living room without her noticing. "Ani!" she exclaims, running to him. Anakin wraps her in his arms immediately, the same way he always does, and it always makes her feel safe, warm, loved. All things she's lacked so much as a Senator and since she left her home. She misses Naboo sometimes, but this is where she can do some good. "Where have you been? I heard you got back two days ago."

The annoyed face he makes is adorable. "I got stuck in the medbay. I was injured when they captured me. It could have been far worse. A fuel tank blew up and if I weren't right where I was, it could have gone badly."

"Did they hurt you?" she asks, because she needs to know that.

"No. No – it was fine."

She breathes a soft sigh of relief, pulling back but keeping hold on his arms. In another lifetime, she thinks, this could've been known. It wouldn't have to be a secret, and it doesn't always have to be, and she can only look forwards to that time. "What happened?"

"On… the Malevolence?"

"Yes. How did they capture you?"

"Dooku got the jump on me. He and Grievous were there. If we weren't under such a tight timeframe, I could've done it, but I had to run."

Sometimes, she really wishes she didn't have to worry about him so much. Anakin is… powerful, and she has no doubt that the goddess will protect him, but sometimes, he's rash. Reckless. "Do you have time tonight?" she asks – he has a padawan now, so staying without Ahsoka noticing will be difficult, but they'll have to work it out.

"I have some things to take care of later," he says, regretfully, "I'm sorry. I have, maybe, two hours?"

Disappointment flares instantly. She really wishes they could live as a normal family. This is what she was afraid of when they first… got into a relationship. "Do you have to go?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats again, "But yes."

"Ahsoka?" she guesses.

He looks away, nodding. "I just got back. I have a lot to do. Maybe tomorrow?"

She wishes she could've been told that earlier – she'd clear her schedule or shuffle it around if they knew, but everything is too unpredictable during wartime. "Yes," she nods, "That works."

Why does she have a strange feeling that Anakin's not telling the truth about what he has to do?

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