Chapter 28
Frustration and Shame

Vader was fascinated with what he was hearing. He had no idea that Obi-Wan could be so…interesting. In a few hours he learned more about the Jedi then he had in a little over four years.

Some of it was shocking. Like the fact that Obi-Wan had almost not become a Jedi. That Qui-Gon had repeatedly rejected his pleas to become his Padawan. And that later Obi-Wan had almost had his memory erased.

Some of it was funny. The stories about his exploits as a young Initiate were amusing, bordering on hilarious. His friends sounded fun and he wondered why Obi-Wan had never taken him to meet them. And one account of how Obi-Wan had dared talk back to Master Yoda during class actually made Vader chuckle a bit.

However, as Obi-Wan reluctantly continued telling tales of his 'misspent youth', Vader found that his eyelids were growing heavy. He tried to keep his focus on Obi-Wan, he really did. But it was just so hard and the bed he was sitting on was so soft. He closed his eyes – just for a moment, really! – and then he didn't remember much of anything for a while…

Padmé was just as fascinated as Vader was. And she was more open about showing it. She had shifted to sitting on the edge of her chair and whenever something she found funny came up, she giggled. All in all, she felt that Obi-Wan's story-telling hour was an hour very well spent. Who knew that such a proper, formal Jedi Knight could've had such an interesting and colorful past?

But as he came up to a particular mission, one he said was to a system called Melida/Daan, he grew very quiet. Padmé sensed that his reluctance in discussing this particular incident was different than the rest. He wasn't just embarrassed by this. It was almost like he was ashamed of it. Padmé decided to stop pressing him for information. She had learned more than enough for today.

"Well thank you for sharing Obi-Wan," she smiled. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Obi-Wan replied dryly, clearly relieved that he didn't have to share his misadventures anymore. Then he glanced over at the foot of the bed and looking slightly concerned. "Oh dear."

Padmé frowned and followed his gaze to see Vader out cold. He was slumped half on, half off the bed and sideways in a position that didn't look particularly comfortable. But considering the rather peaceful relaxed expression on his sleeping face, it must've worked for him.

"He sleeps for three days straight and then what does he do? He sleeps some more." Padmé snorted softly.

"It's really not that surprising," Obi-Wan sighed softly, sadly. "This past week was especially stressful for him."

Padmé nodded in mute agreement. I certainly didn't help matters, she reluctantly admitted to herself. She was aware that she hadn't been a very easy person to guard. Her almost endless anxiety and preoccupation with her situation had gotten on his nerves and her attitude towards him hadn't helped matters either.

After the battle had wound down on Geonosis and she'd found out about what had happened to Obi-Wan and Vader she'd felt guilty. Guilty of ever accusing or insinuating that Vader cared nothing for his Master. You didn't give up your right arm for someone who meant nothing to you.

Feeling uncomfortable at just looking at the way Vader was napping, Padmé sighed and set about fixing it. She carefully levered his lower half up onto the bed, cursing her petite slender frame as she strained under his weight. After arranging him in a more comfortable position, she pulled his boots off, and nodded in satisfaction. Vader hadn't stirred a bit throughout.

"There," Padmé teasingly dusted off her hands. "Now Obi-Wan," she turned back to the Knight, "I'll be back in a few hours with dinner."

"Thank you Padmé," Obi-Wan smiled weakly in gratitude.

"It is no problem Obi-Wan," Padmé replied as she exited. "Anything for a friend."

It was dark, but that was okay, because it was warm and safe. It was a nice place and he didn't want to leave it. Leaving it would mean he would have to face pain and deal with uncomfortable things. He didn't feel up for that. So he just stayed in the dark safe place.

But then he was aware of a nudging. The sensation threatened to drive him out of the nice dark place, so he resisted it, ignored it. The nudging was persistent though. It refused to leave him in peace. And then, as if the nudging wasn't bad enough, a voice joined it.

He tried to just focus on the voice and ignore the annoying poking. The voice was nice. It was calm and gentle and almost musical. Maybe if he just put all his attention on it, it would soothe him back into the deep part of the nice dark place like the way his mother's lullabies used to. Instead, it just woke him up more.

"Wake up," the voice coaxed, "you've slept long enough. Wake up."

"Ngh," Vader grunted as he vaguely recalled that he had a voice too.

"Come now young one," the voice chuckled, "it's nearly dinner time."

"Mmn?" Vader grumbled, cracking one eye open. Everything was fuzzy.

"That's it," the voice – Obi-Wan – smiled slightly. The poking stopped.

"Wha' time isit?" Vader mumbled into the bedcovers.

"Nearly six in the evening," Obi-Wan replied after glancing at some wall chrono off to the left.

"Huh?" Vader blinked sleepily as the haze in his head began to recede. Last he knew, it had been around noon.

"You fell asleep," Obi-Wan shrugged. "Dinner should be served shortly."

"Dinner?" Vader repeated stupidly. "But…I just had lunch."

"It only seems that way." Obi-Wan replied gently. "You've been out for hours."

"Oh," Vader blinked.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and started to rub the sleep from his eyes. But when his right hand touched his face, the cold metal of the prosthetic made him jump. Rattled and feeling vaguely ill, he forced the cursed golden thing down to his side and used only his left hand.

Obi-Wan noticed his discomfort and looked about ready to say something when the door, which had been closed at some point, swung open to admit Padmé and a Handmaiden who wasn't Sabé. Each carried a tray laden with whatever dinner was that night. Padmé brought her tray to Obi-Wan while the Handmaiden – that Vader now recognized as Dormé – came over to serve him.

The meal looked like it could've been ordered from a fancy high-class restaurant. It included a small roll, a few interesting-looking vegetables, and a juicy steak of some kind drenched in a thick honey-like sauce. Despite the fact that it seemed like he'd just eaten lunch, the sight of this food made him suddenly realize that he was absolutely starving.

"The cooks' best Shaak steak," Padmé declared. "Enjoy gentlemen."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied politely.

Vader only briefly nodded his thanks, he was too hungry to waste time with words. If it bothered them, he could always express some verbal gratitude later. After he ate.

Eagerly he grabbed his fork and knife, ready to dive into dinner. Then his fork promptly slipped right out of his grip, clattering noisily against the tray. Vader cringed and mentally kicked himself for forgetting the hideous golden thing that now served as his right hand.

After a pause he swallowed hard, clenched his teeth in determination, and tried again. This time he managed to hold onto the utensil long enough to make an attempt at cutting the steak. But despite the tender meat, he couldn't keep his grip firm enough to cut it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a single piece cut and it frustrated him to no end.

Somewhere around the point when he felt he might explode, things got infinitely worse. Padmé's slender hands appeared to come out of nowhere and gently clasped his shiny golden wrist. A prickly feeling of dread crept up his spine as he slowly looked up from his plate. Sure enough, he saw what he feared he'd see: pity.

"Let me help," she murmured softly.

Vader couldn't decide what he wanted to do more. Strangle her or curl up and die. But he did neither. Instead he chose the third way. He relinquished his silverware and turned to stare at some spot on the floor near the doorway. He refused to look back until she'd finished cutting up his steak for him.

"Thanks," he muttered stiffly and with effort after she had finished.

The steak, which had looked so tasty before, now tasted bland and chewy. Even though he felt hungry, it took effort to eat it. And the rest of the food was no better. By the time he'd finished, he almost felt sick.

"Why don't you go out onto the balcony and get some fresh air." While it was phrased as a suggestion, Obi-Wan's tone made it clear that it was an order.

Vader gave a terse nod and all but fled the room. He strode out onto the small balcony that bordered Obi-Wan's guest room and did his best the crush the stone railing with his bare hands. His frustration and shame threatened to choke him or worse, make him cry. If he had a choice in the matter, he'd rather choke.

Obi-Wan sighed wearily as Vader stormed out onto the balcony. On the one hand, he was glad that they had been invited to stay here for a while. Had they gone straight back to the Temple, Vader would probably be put under even more stress than he already was and that ran the risk of triggering a Dark Side slip. But on the other hand, not being at the Temple meant it was all but impossible to get advice from any more experienced Jedi in how to deal with and help Vader adjust to his situation.

"What's the matter with him?" The Handmaiden, Dormé, wondered.

"He's always been self-sufficient," Obi-Wan explained. "Needing help with simple tasks that he could always do in the past is very upsetting to him."

Dormé nodded, but it was clear she didn't entirely understand. She probably thought that Vader was being childish and blowing things out of proportion. She said no more about it though.

"Come Milady, let's clear these dishes away and give Jedi Kenobi and his Padawan a little peace." Dormé suggested cheerily.

"Hm?" Padmé blinked. "Oh, yes, of course."

Each woman gathered up an empty tray and made for the exit. Dormé quickly disappeared, but Padmé lingered for a moment. She stared at the balcony door with an unreadable expression before following Dormé out of the room.

Now alone, Obi-Wan slumped down against the headboard of the bed. He suddenly felt very old and very tired. But rest was the last thing he could afford to do right now. Gathering up his focus, he carefully reached out to see how Vader was doing.

He hadn't felt such emotional turmoil from the boy in years. There was anger there and frustration. And there was also deep shame, pain, grief, anxiety, and probably a few other things that Obi-Wan couldn't quite name. But frustration and shame were the most dominant feelings at the moment.

Unwilling to upset the young man further by pressing at his mind to call him back, Obi-Wan decided to briefly disobey the Healer's orders. He very carefully and very stiffly climbed out of bed and limped painfully out to the balcony. Each step made his right leg twinge and burn slightly, but he ignored it.

Some fresh air will so me some good anyway…

Vader was so lost in his internal struggles that he failed to notice Obi-Wan join him. Only when the older man put a hand on his shoulder did he realize that he wasn't alone anymore. Flinching away from the touch, he almost struck out at the man on reflex. Almost.

"Enjoying the stars?" Obi-Wan asked politely. It was impossible to tell if he realized how close he'd come to getting smacked across the face.

"Huh?" Vader panted, glancing up the see that the stars were indeed out and shining brightly in the darkening night sky.

"I suppose not then," Kenobi shrugged. "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling just great!" Vader spat tensely, glaring over at the distant waterfalls.

"I thought as much," Obi-Wan sighed softly.

The Jedi Knight turned his gaze skyward and stared up at the glittering stars. What he was thinking, Vader couldn't even guess. So he didn't waste the energy trying. Instead he focused on waiting and gaining some kind of calm. That task alone was more than enough to occupy him.

When Obi-Wan was good and ready, he spoke again. "Let's go inside."

Vader nodded mutely and pried his fingers free of the balcony railing. He turned to follow Obi-Wan inside, but was held up by the fact that the Jedi was limping badly and so he was moving slowly. The false Jedi felt slightly worried seeing this, and just a little bit guilty. But Obi-Wan made it back to bed without incident and Vader found himself anxiously shifting from foot to foot as he tried to decide what to do with himself. Should he stay or should he go and leave Obi-Wan in peace?

"Sit down," Obi-Wan said quietly. Vader obeyed, his eyes fixed on the patterned bedcovers. "Now, how does your hand feel?" The Jedi asked.

"When…when I pay attention to it, it gets all tingly, like it's asleep." Vader replied reluctantly. "And when I…I make it move…it stings."

"That should pass in time," Obi-Wan tried to assure him. "Patience."

"It's always patience!" Vader grumbled bitterly.

"Yes, unfortunately." Obi-Wan sighed wryly.

There was an unbearable silence that Vader found himself compelled to break. "I don't like it," he mumbled childishly, "it's ugly." Obi-Wan made no comment and Vader found himself speaking again. "It looks like they ripped the hand off a skeleton and gold-plated it. Is this really the best they could do?" His voice wavered on the question.

"Yes," Obi-Wan murmured, "however, it could be worse."

"How can it be worse?" Vader snapped acidly.

"The prosthetic might have not been a human-shaped hand at all, but a more simplistic droid claw. Or they might not have been a mechanical prosthetic, period." The Jedi calmly pointed out.

Vader flexed the prosthetic, clenching his jaw against the discomfort and the disquieting sounds it made as it moved. "Why did I have to be so stupid?"

"Everyone makes mistakes." Obi-Wan reminded him.

"Should've realized he'd zap me like that. It was always his favorite thing to do." Vader mumbled. "But…I totally forgot about it."

"It has been a long time since you were exposed to him." Obi-Wan stated. "It's not surprising that your memory of him is not as clear as it once was."

"That's no excuse," Vader growled. "I should've waited instead of running in like a moron!"

"You're being too hard on yourself," Obi-Wan sighed. "What's done is done. Learn from the mistakes of the past, do not drown yourself in them."

The patterns on the bed sheets seemed to waver and run together as Vader stared at them. "I know, I know." His voice trembled and his throat felt oddly tight.

"Come here," Obi-Wan commanded gently.

Obediently, Vader crawled over the bed to kneel beside the Jedi, his blurry eyes fixed on the covers. Obi-Wan slipped a hand under his chin and forced his head up so they were eye-to-eye. Vader was briefly confused as Obi-Wan's face looked as blurry as the sheets had. Was there suddenly something wrong with his eyes now? Then Obi-Wan reached up with his other hand and rubbed at Vader's face with his sleeve. And Vader realized that he'd started crying.

With that realization, he crumbled. Letting out a choked, utterly pathetic sob, Vader slumped into Obi-Wan's shoulder and cried like a baby. He cried like he hadn't cried since the meltdown he'd had on the fringes of Coronet when Obi-Wan and Master Halcyon had tracked him down after his panicked escape from the hospital. He cried until he had no strength left and then calm peaceful darkness took him away…