Disclaimer: GL's playground, not mine. Sniff.
Author's Notes: Thank you all in advance for coming back to this story--I'm so sorry it has been so long since the last update. This is the hardest thing I've ever written, certainly the most creative and demading, and I think it took just about everything out of me. Damn that Qui-Gon Jinn! Capturing his voice and his relationship with Obi-Wan had me blocked for over a week! I hope the chapter as a whole translates well and moves you in the way it was intended. It is also a tad lengthy, but there was just so much that needed to be said and so much for them to go through. I appreciate any and all feedback, but most of all, I just appreciate that you've taken the time to get reacquainted with Do What You Have to Do.
Maia's Pen: Obi-Wan is THE angst-machine! Thanks for such a purr-fect review, too. I can't seem to get a grip on my mega-crushes, either, LOL! I'm so GLAD that Anakin's part worked for you--thank you for all your comments. loves
Vee017: The love runs both ways, sister! Let me know what you think of Qui-Gon here. And yes, Anakin definitely still needs Obi-Wan!
Juliana: Thank you! I hope you'll continue to read, and that I did right by your fave, Qui-Gon.
Ilana Starr: WOW! Thanks for the compliment, but there are so many GREAT Obi/Anakin authors here: Vee, Monchy, Alchemy Dream, and of course XtinethePirate! Check them all out. Welcome to the fandom--we are a bit zealous about our boys!
Monchy: Getting a review from you is such a sweet treat! Thanks also for the blisteringly funny review of Sexy MF. The memories mixing with the pain was just what I was going for, and it makes me giddy to no end that other people could see and feel it, too. Thanks for sharing that with me!
Alchemy Dream: So glad you like Luminara! At times, I think she gets to say and do all the things we'd like to. Yes, she's tender, but she's also tough when need be. As always, I so appreciate the time you take to look deeper and to share your insights. And you are right--even I don't always see the levels, but I'm so grateful that you do and share them with me. Thank you. I think (hope?) you'll like this chapter, too.
XtinethePirate: There are truly no words of thanks and praise I can utter to you. You were simple amazing through this whole hideous process. Patient, encouraging, understanding, and most of all, you just listened. THANK YOU! This chapter is totally dedicated to you, because with out you, I would certainly have given up on it a long time ago. So loving you!
Chapter 4: This Lonely Place
"Promises of a long lost friend speaks to me of comfort, but I fear I have nothing to give and I have so much to lose here in this lonely place…"
--S. McLachlan, Fear
(Master, please, help me!)
Anakin had called out for him, pleading for his Master's help. Anakin needed help. Needed him.
I have to get to Anakin. Now!
(Anakin, I'm here!)
He tried to reassure his Padawan, but was met with a blanketed silence in their training bond.
(Anakin, please! Tell me where you are! ANAKIN!)
Silence.
Get up! Get up! he screamed to his reluctant body. He was ashamed that he'd been caught off guard, ashamed that he'd once again abandoned Anakin.
How did he get here? Ah, yes…Luminara! He seethed, rubbing the spot on his neck as he remembered the slight prick of the sedative's needle. As he forced himself to a sitting position, Obi-Wan groaned at how uncooperative his body had become. Sith, I told her just a short nap!
Gingerly, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and slowly attempted to stand. Although his leg still burned mildly, he had to admit that it was feeling better. He donned the robe at the end of the bed, fumbled around until he located the Sith-forsaken cane, and slowly limped out to Anakin's room.
In the twilight of the evening, the room had adopted a soothing blue hue that played off the white of the curtains and bed linens, and cast Anakin in a serene glow, more serene than any other time he'd seen Anakin asleep. It hurt almost as much to see Anakin this time as it had the first, because now it was real—he couldn't pass it off as a bad dream or a fantasy of his fever-induced imagination.
He looked over to Luminara, who appeared to be asleep in the chair at Anakin's bedside, a small frown working the corners of her mouth. In his haste and distraction, Obi-Wan caught his toe on the edge of the carpet, forcing him to stumble, followed by a string of colourful curses. When he regained control, and what little dignity he felt he had left, he looked up, flustered, to find Luminara watching him intently.
"Obi-Wan, you shouldn't—"
He cut her off impatiently with a wave of his free hand. "He called to me, Luminara. I heard him. I heard him!"
She raised her eyebrows with some disbelief. "Are you sure?" she asked carefully.
Obi-Wan's face betrayed his annoyance and anxiety. "Of course I'm sure!" he snapped. "Luminara, I'm sure I know my own Padawan's voice, for Sith's sake! He needs my help."
"Obi-Wan, I know your bond is strong, but to communicate actual words, sentences…" She trailed off with uncertainty. "It is very rare between Jedi; I know of no living Jedi who have this ability." She looked at him with questioning eyes.
He gave her a lopsided smile. "Now you do," he replied shyly, avoiding her eyes. "It is not something we advertise—I somehow do not think the Council would approve. I'm afraid they might interpret this…this…"
"Intimacy?" Luminara offered, much to Obi-Wan's discomfort. But he could not deny that's what it was.
"Er...yes," he agreed, quietly. "The Council would surely separate us for having such an…an… attachment."
Luminara couldn't help but be curious. "How long have you two had this ability?"
She noticed the far-off look in his eyes, the wry smile of a long-past memory ghosting his lips. He turned to her. "Since the very first time I put that Padawan braid in his hair, here on Naboo. Of course his hair was much too short for anything substantial, so I took some strands from mine and began to weave them in with his hair." The smile on his face was betrayed only by the waver in his voice. "As I watched the copper and blonde twine together, I realized that I could hear every one of his thoughts. Not just feelings, " he looked up at her, "but his thoughts. A flicker of grief over Qui-Gon, his doubts about me, even silly, childish things like how he was going to show the damn thing off to Padme to impress her." He laughed softly, caught up in the remembrance. "No, we couldn't speak directly in the beginning, but as our bond strengthened, so did our ability to communicate through the bond."
Luminara was intrigued, surprised that she had never considered this before. Of course. Of course! Qui-Gon had given her the solution; she just hadn't had all of the information.
"Luminara, I know it was him," he said with a quiet certainty, breaking into her thoughts.
"Obi-Wan, I do not doubt that, not after what you have told me. Have you been able to contact him? Are you able to communicate with him now? Is he responding?"
He let out a frustrated sigh. "No. Nothing at all, just… silence, a silence we've never had before now. I can feel his Force-signature, but it is like he's tuned me out. Until now. Until this. He asked me for help, Luminara. Help with what? I don't know what to do," he cried out, an edge of hysteria to his voice. He felt so helpless, so useless, unable to help the one person who desperately needed his help. The last of his usual Jedi grace left him and he began to stagger a bit, his Sith-damned leg reacting to the intense physical and emotional stress.
Luminara went over to him, gently guiding the Jedi into the chair. She perched herself on the edge of Anakin's bed, quietly contemplating everything Obi-Wan had told her.
He set his jaw stubbornly. "It was him. I can assure you it was him!" His eyes narrowed with suspicion and worry as he leaned forward eagerly. "What is it? What has happened?"
"Obi-Wan, while you were sleeping—"
"Drugged, you mean, don't you?" he said with biting sarcasm.
She ignored him with a shrug. "While you were sleeping, I tried a Healer's technique for locating those lost in the Force." She paused and then gave him a small smile. "I found him, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan's mouth gaped with surprise as his heart surged with hope. "You-you found him?" His eyes darted over to the blissfully peaceful young man, half expecting his Padawan to be looking back, a cheeky remark ready on his tongue.
Luminara continued. "He certainly didn't want me to, and resisted many complex Healer methods for entering his mind. He has remarkable shielding capabilities for a Padawan, Obi-Wan. You have taught him well."
Of that I am all too aware, he thought ruefully. In truth, he'd had to teach Anakin very little about shielding. In many ways, Anakin was still an enigma, ten years into his training. If Anakin wanted to hide something, even his Master had a hard time penetrating those shields. But there were ways, and as Anakin's Master, Obi-Wan would have had every right to use those methods. But he never had. To do so would be a breach of the implicit trust they had forged together, and it would break a promise he'd made long ago.
"But Luminara, why isn't he awake? If you were able to find him, why did he call for me, for my help?"
With a fluid grace, the Healer moved off the bed and crouched in front of Obi-Wan, gently pressing her fingers against his lips to quiet his questions. "Obi-Wan," she started in a soft voice, "I said I found him. But he cannot, does not, want to hear me. He is in a great deal of pain—emotional pain, and the Force has provided a safe haven, if you will, for him to hide from that pain."
She backed away as Obi-Wan's hand came up to cover his mouth. He closed his eyes and let out a deep melancholic sigh. Of course. That's why he doesn't answer. He's in pain, and it is all my fault. He's not lost—he's hiding from me and doesn't want to come back. Obi-Wan let himself fall back into the chair as he felt the despair wash over him.
Luminara could not help but feel her friend's anguish as it radiated through the Force. "Obi-Wan, listen to me. Anakin is choosing not to hear me. You are his Master, and you two obviously share a…unique…and powerful bond, and a camaraderie that is envied by every other Master/Padawan team in the Order. I'm not sure you even realize how entwined your Force-signatures are, my friend."
"What do you mean?" he asked, throwing her a confused look.
"When we were on Ansion, when I looked at you both through the Force, it was often difficult to discern where one of you ended and the other began, particularly during battle, like you were two halves of the same whole. Your bond with Anakin is the strongest I've witnessed between any two Jedi, and I doubt that you'll be able to sever it when he becomes a Knight. Given what you've told me, I can't imagine why you would."
She reached over and patted his arm encouragingly.
"The fact that he has called out to you is very good news, Obi-Wan. We have every reason to believe that he will listen to you."
"We?" he asked, slightly bemused. His head was beginning to swim with emotions he could not seem to control.
"Yes. Obi-Wan, Master Jinn was there, too." She watched the kaleidoscope of emotions dance through his blue-green eyes at the mention of his former Master.
"Q-Qui-Gon?" he whispered. No. No. It cannot be. His beloved Master, whom he had failed so miserably. "But Luminara, Qui-Gon is dead," he said, in a voice pained by the memory. It still hurt to say those words out loud, but so much more so now, on Naboo, without Anakin really there as a reminder of his Master's final and greatest gift to Obi-Wan before his passing. Qui-Gon is dead. Dead…dead…dead… the words echoed mockingly through his mind.
"Obi-Wan, all things are possible in the Force; do you not recall your training?" she gently admonished him.
"Luminara, I don't understand," he cried, throwing his hands up into his hair in confusion and frustration.
The comlink on Luminara's belt chimed. She threw him a quick look of apology, then read the message.
"Obi-Wan, it is the Council. Haja, I'm overdue for my report. I had better not put off this call as well. I will return shortly," she said, standing to leave.
Obi-Wan grabbed her hand to get her attention. "Luminara, please…you won't say anything…"
She squeezed his hand. "About what? That Master Kenobi is a terrible patient who never, ever listens to his Healer? That's definitely not one of your better-kept secrets, my friend," she chuckled, moving past him and out the door.
Alone again with Anakin, Obi-Wan stood and moved to the edge of the bed, unconsciously taking his Padawan's limp hand into his own, brushing the top with his other hand.
Try as he might, he couldn't silence the nagging voice in his head. The one that he had thought he'd silenced years ago. The one that was ugly, jealous, and most of all, pathetic.
Qui-Gon is with Anakin. They're together, like it should have been, before you screwed up, Obi-Wan, and got him killed. You killed him. You. Killed. Him.
(No…) He tried to block the voice, to shut it up. He didn't want to listen, to hear it.
His last words to you were about Anakin, about how special he is, not you.
(But he is special. He's the Chosen One.)
And you are not, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon would have come to you, if you were. He went to Anakin, instead. The apprentice he always wanted.
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, willing the voice to stop. He didn't want to listen anymore.
Even Luminara has been with him. But not you. He doesn't want to see you. Just like Anakin. It is pathetic that you failed both your Master and your Padawan. You're the one who should be lost, not them.
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" he yelled, his hands flying up to cover his ears in a misguided attempt to block the noise in his head.
He looked at Anakin, willing himself, pleading with himself, to remember the bond they had. One that was stronger than the one he'd had with Qui-Gon. He spied the messy, outgrown braid, a symbolic reminder of their commitment to each other as Master and Padawan. He turned it over in his hands, searching in vain for any remnant of his own coppery hair. Of course, there wasn't any; Anakin had long since grown more than enough hair for a lengthy braid of his own.
Without much conscious thought, Obi-Wan gently removed the end tie and began to unweave the three golden pieces. At varying intervals, he carefully removed other coloured bands of thread that signified different points of achievement in Anakin's training. Gold for his 13th birthday—a milestone in a young Padawan's life. Red for high honours in acrobatics—no small feat considering his height and frame. Green for his first-place ranking in Master Tiin's space aeronautics competition—he'd beat out several Masters for that honour.
And then the one Anakin had been most proud of. Blue, for his completion of Form V lightsabre training—he'd been the youngest Padawan ever to complete training in that aggressive fighting style. That one hurt the most to remove, for it made Obi-Wan stop and glance over at that empty white sleeve, closing his eyes briefly to hide from the reality. But he couldn't. Anakin's arm was gone. Will Anakin ever be able to regain the strength and agility to continue to use Form V?
With all the bands out, Obi-Wan gently raked his fingers through the wavy strands, amazed again at how much it had grown because of the bacta. The hairs were soft and slightly darker in colour when compared to the golden halo of curls that adorned his head now. He absently ran a hand over the unruly locks that lay on Anakin's forehead, brushing them to the side.
"Padawan, your hair is decidedly out of control, you know. Very unbecoming for a Padawan Learner, I might add. What would the Council say?" He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "I suppose you want me to cover for you, again. Well, I guess you could use the 'But Masters, I was in a coma' excuse. They might believe you this time, but you better use it sparingly. They could catch on." He laughed in spite of himself, knowing Anakin would have laughed as well. He will laugh, he told himself
He went back to the longer hair and carefully separated it into three even sections, quickly and deftly twisting them to form a slender, flat plait. After securing the end tie, he decorated the smooth length of hair with the colourful bands.
"There," he said, pleased with his handiwork. Of course, it had been years since he'd done that—Anakin's hair had been much shorter. Well, Anakin had been much shorter then, too, he recalled with a slight grimace. Now his Padawan seemed to tower over him with an increasingly irritating amount of height.
He gently placed the braid back on Anakin's chest, allowing his fingers to linger just a bit. "I think it is almost as long as mine ever was, Anakin," he said with a faint smile.
"No, my dear Obi-Wan. As I recall, your hair grew like weeds and your braid was about twice as long when the two of you first met on Tatooine."
Obi-Wan froze at the sound of that voice, certain he was hallucinating from either his fever or exhaustion.
He heard that familiar rumble of laughter, one that always seemed to hold both mirth and a lesson. "Obi-Wan, you're not hallucinating. My dear Padawan, always so full of doubt."
Obi-Wan's hands clenched at his sides as he slowly turned toward the voice, wanting to believe…
"Master? Master!" he whispered, afraid the sound of his voice could end this dream, this wonderful dream he'd had more times than he could ever admit, where his Master had come back to him.
Qui-Gon stood just a few feet away, looking just as he had in every one of Obi-Wan's memories. Flowing hair with just a touch of gray, eyes that sparkled with some kind of joke only he was privy to, and that warm, fatherly smile.
"No…no…." Obi-Wan shook his head, tears burning in his eyes, his heart and mind unable to absorb the flood of anguish that hammered at his very soul.
"Hello, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan began to cry, his emotions bringing him to his knees as they crashed through ever single barrier he'd created deep within himself to cover the hole in his heart where Qui-Gon had once been. It may have been ten years, but the grief and loss he felt now was as fresh as it had been when he'd lovingly held a dying Qui-Gon's head in his lap, feeling his Master's final breath leave his body. He had missed him every single day of those ten years.
"I have missed you, too, my Padawan." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sighed as he savored the familiar brush of his former Master's mind against his, soothing the ache and easing his tears. He felt like a young Padawan again, free from all of the burdens he now carried as a Master. Seeking comfort and security from a long-forgotten habit, his right hand rose to wrap around his Padawan braid, only to find himself grasping at air. He reluctantly opened his eyes and stood up, seeing Anakin's prone figure and the recently rewoven braid draped across the younger man's chest. It was an inescapable reminder that Obi-Wan was no longer the Padawan, but the Master.
"Obi-Wan, after all these years, do I still need to tell you to be mindful of the Living Force?" Qui-Gon lightly admonished his former apprentice. "You must let go of the past and focus on the here and now."
In a small voice, Obi-Wan bowed his head and gave the near-automatic response. "Yes, Master." Still, Obi-Wan could not quiet the voice in his head that assailed him with so much doubt. "I'm-I'm sorry Master. I'm sorry that I failed you that day. If I had been faster…if I had been stronger…if I had—"
"Obi-Wan!" he said sharply, causing his former Padawan to look up, startled. "My passage into the Force was not your fault! It was the will of the Force—after all this time, do you still not understand that?"
"Master, how can it be the will of the Force that you should find Anakin, the Chosen One, and then die?" He looked over to his Padawan, remembering with regret those final days with Qui-Gon, the ones they spent fighting about Anakin. "You were supposed to train Anakin, and instead, he was saddled with me, a new Knight whose best quality, according to you, was that I was 'capable'," he choked out.
"And capable you are, but it is by far not all that you are, Obi-Wan." His kind blue eyes caught Obi-Wan's and held them. "You have become a great Jedi, as I always knew you would. You are a much wiser man than I ever was, Obi-Wan. But you must learn to trust in yourself."
Obi-Wan shook his head defiantly. "I am not a great Jedi, Master," he gestured toward Anakin. "Look at how I've failed Anakin," he said, as he reached up to swipe at his tear-stained cheeks, "the one thing you asked of me. The Sith should have taken my life that day, not yours. You should have been his Master. You would not have failed him as I have."
Qui-Gon's deep voice growled with frustration. "Force save me! Obi-Wan, how can you not see that the Force did not bring Anakin to me—it brought Anakin to you. I was but the means that brought you two together—if you recall, it was you who chose for us to go to Tatooine. It was the will of the Force that you be his Master, not I. Anakin is who he is, and the great Jedi he will become, because you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, are his Master. You have trained him far better than I could ever have."
Again, Obi-Wan felt the gentle reassurances in his mind, and he desperately wanted to believe, wanted to believe in Qui-Gon's faith in him. But all the old insecurities, all the old hurts and slights he had felt as Qui-Gon's apprentice, made it somehow not enough, even now.
He absently reached over to Anakin and tucked a few stray curls behind his Padawan's ear. "But Qui-Gon, look at what has happened to him; what I allowed to happen to him."
The elder Jedi Master looked at Anakin thoughtfully. "What I see is an astonishingly talented Padawan who has been gifted by the Force with an exceedingly patient and caring Master to guide him in his training." He paused, then slowly let out a breath. "He made a rash decision, Obi-Wan, but he made it. Anakin will have to learn to live with the consequences of that decision." He looked at Obi-Wan pointedly. "But he will need your help. I do not think he can do this on his own."
"But how can I help him?" Obi-Wan cried with despair. "I've heard him call for me, but when I try to reach him, there's only silence. Qui-Gon, please, tell me how to find him, how to bring him back," he implored, his eyes searching his Master's for answers.
Qui-Gon shook his head slowly. "Oh, my dear Obi-Wan." Folding his arms across his chest, he gave his apprentice a knowing look. "You and Anakin are more alike than you may realize. You both need to accept that you cannot control the Force; instead, you must allow yourselves to listen to it, flow with it, and fulfill it. You must let go of these sentiments that hold you back from hearing the will of the Force. Guilt, remorse, grief, regret. They are all in the past, Obi-Wan, and do nothing to serve you or the Force."
Obi-Wan turned his back to Qui-Gon, his fingers needlessly fiddling with the blankets, suddenly uncomfortable under his Master's scrutiny.
"You have everything Anakin needs, my Padawan. Anakin is afraid, afraid to face his fears, so he hides. Search your feelings, search his. The answer lies in your bond, Obi-Wan. The Force has given you both an extraordinary gift—use it! You will know what to do, Obi-Wan. The Force will show you the way…"
"But, Master," He turned to face Qui-Gon—
Only to find himself alone, again.
(You are never alone, Obi-Wan. The Force has seen to that. Trust in it. Goodbye, and may the Force be with you, always.)
Tears burned in his eyes as Obi-Wan swallowed hard and gave the air where his beloved Master had been a bittersweet smile.
(Goodbye, Master. And thank you.)
Obi-Wan felt the hand on his shoulder, an experience that was becoming all too familiar. His eyes fluttered open, surprised to find they had been closed.
"Obi-Wan, are you all right? You look…troubled." She put her hands on his shoulders, tilting her head to the side as she searched his face for answers. "And yet…something is different…you're smiling. Is it Anakin?" she asked hopefully.
He frowned then, shaking his head lightly. "No…it was Qui-Gon, actually." His lips curved up slightly at the thought. "Luminara, I…I think I know how to find Anakin and bring him back…"
----
Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he settled into the chair next to his Padawan's bed. He breathed in slowly, allowing himself to become immersed in the light of the Force, a familiar and comforting ritual he had practiced for as long as he had been a Jedi. As the trance deepened, he opened himself further, allowing the Force full access to his body, mind, and spirit. He felt the dissipating pain of the wounds in his shoulder and leg, and remembered Dooku.
Dooku…
He shunted that thought into Force, forcing himself to focus outward, toward Anakin. His mind traveled along the tendrils of their bond, searching for him, calling to him, looking for any hint of his Padawan's presence.
(Anakin! Anakin, where are you? Anakin!)
He met with a wall of shields.
(Anakin, please. Let me help you.)
If Anakin did not respond, Obi-Wan would be faced with a difficult decision. Luminara had shared with him her technique for bypassing Anakin's shields—he had actually been appalled that the Healer had intentionally inflicted so much pain on a patient, even if it had achieved the desired result. Although, I should not be surprised; she is a Healer, after all. Inflicting pain seems to be their specialty, he thought sarcastically.
He tried again, pleading with Anakin, exacting more pressure at the shields, feeling some give in, only to find others building up. He tried all of the usual tricks; an image of Padme, a plate of pancakes, even a green speeder-sick Obi-Wan, which almost always worked to let Anakin's guard down. Instead, Obi-Wan felt his frustration grow with each block Anakin put up. Oh, come on, Anakin! I don't want to hurt you!
(Padawan, I want to help you. Please. You must let me in.)
----
Floating on his back, Anakin tried to block out the insistent tugs at the edge of his consciousness. He didn't want to remember, he didn't want to feel. But Qui-Gon's voice kept playing over and over in his mind. "Do not force this unwanted solitude on the one who has always been by your side… you cannot avoid your duty nor your destiny…"
With a sudden flash of anger, he righted himself, slapping the water in frustration. Damn the Force! He didn't ask for this "destiny." Obi-Wan doesn't need me—what use does he have for such a failure of a Padawan? He never wanted me—he only took me because of Qui-Gon.
But who would you have been without Obi-Wan? he thought to himself. The Council would never have accepted you—they would have sent you back to Tatooine.
(Padawan, please, I want to help you…)
His master's voice shot through his mind, a bright and comforting presence that cast all other thoughts into shadow. Despite himself, he heard his own voice call out to that light.
(Master?)
No. No! He floundered in the water, his right arm weakening again. How could his Master have found him? I can't face him, I can't. I don't want to see that disappointed look in his eyes, the one he always has for me. Only this time, what I've done is so much worse. I can't, I can't…
He let out an aggravated growl, then dove down, down into the water, trying to escape the voices, the memories, the…feelings.
---
(Master?)
Obi-Wan heard Anakin, but before he could respond, he felt stronger, darker shields slam into place, effectively erasing any progress he'd made in reaching Anakin. With great alarm, he sensed the muted dimness that started to surround Anakin's Force-signature. Anakin was moving away, so far away, and Obi-Wan feared he'd never reach him. (Anakin, no! Anakin!) He began to panic, his mind pounding relentlessly against every one of Anakin's shields.
(Anakin, let me in! Let me help you!)
With a heavy heart, the Master realized he'd have to do something he'd never had to resort to before: he'd have to break Anakin's shields. He'd be breaking one of the most solemn vows he had ever made to his Padawan, one that Anakin might never forgive. But it would be worth it; he only hoped it would be enough. Following Anakin's Force-signature, and utilizing the strength of their bond, Obi-Wan pushed with all he had, demanding entry through the shields of his Padawan.
In the chair, Obi-Wan's entire body went rigid with the effort, his face twisting into a mask of agony as their minds collided.
---
A fire burned through Anakin's mind, hotter and brighter than any burn he'd ever received from a blaster or sabre. The pain was so intense, so overwhelming, that it momentarily caused all body functions to cease. He found himself deep in the darkness of the water, mouth open, choking as the water he had sought relief in now poured into his lungs. His chest burned and vision blurred.
Master…why?…you promised…you promised…
---
In the next instant, Obi-Wan found himself standing on the edge of a large lake, remarkably similar to the one outside Anakin's room. The pain of breaching Anakin's shields still throbbed through his mind, but he forced himself to brush it aside—he had to concentrate. What is this place? Instinctively, his gaze traveled across the water, and his breath caught in his chest.
Anakin was out there.
Anakin was drowning.
Without a second thought, not even to remove his boots, Obi-Wan launched himself into the water, calling out for his Padawan as his swift strokes cut through the water.
"ANAKIN! ANAKIN! I'm here, hold on, hold on!"
Terror ripped through his every fibre as he saw Anakin slip under the surface.
"Anakin, NO!"
Obi-Wan kicked harder, pulled harder, until he reached the spot where Anakin had been. He pushed his long wet hair out of his eyes as he looked around frantically, his chest heaving for air, but there was nothing. "Anakin!" he called out desperately.
(Anakin!)
He took a deep breath, and dove under the surface, his eyes and his mind searching hysterically for any sign of his apprentice, his partner, his brother. My brother, he thought, his heart breaking just a bit. He's so much more than that. I cannot fail him again. I cannot lose him.
His eyes were stinging from the water, his lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, as he swam deeper. Out of the murkiness, he spied the shadow of a figure. Anakin was sinking, down, down into the dark abyss.
(Anakin, look at me. I'm here! Anakin, please, please…)
After a frightening moment that seemed to last an eternity, Anakin's eyes opened. He slowly focused on his Master, his face a mix of despair, fear, and torment.
(Master? no…don't…)
(Come with me, Anakin), he said, reaching out for his apprentice's hand. The hand Obi-Wan knew, with such sorrow, that wouldn't be there when Anakin left this…place.
(Anakin, please.)
Anakin closed his eyes again, shaking his head, a movement slowly exaggerated by the water that surrounded them. (Master, no. It's better this way. Let me go, please just let me go!)
Spots began to dance in front of Obi-Wan's eyes as his body cried out for oxygen. But his heart and mind cried out for Anakin.
(Anakin, I will not leave you here!)
(I-I don't want to, I can't, Master. I can't…please, let me go!) he cried, trying to move away.
Obi-Wan reached again for his Padawan, this time pouring all the love and affection he had for Anakin into their bond. (Anakin, Padawan, I know you can do this. Listen to me, your Master…please, take my hand.)
The warmth of his Master's voice, the pained look in his eyes, crumbled the last of Anakin's resistance. He grabbed desperately for Obi-Wan's hand…
----
Bright yellow beams cris-crossed on the cream colored ceiling, leading his eyes toward a multitude of different endpoints on the light blue walls ahead. As he blinked his eyes into focus, he took a deep breath, immediately recognizing the scent that permeated the room. Naboo…the lake country. But how did I…
(Master?) He called out over their bond, suddenly feeling very confused and very alone.
Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. (Anakin, I'm here.) He pushed himself awkwardly out of the chair and leaned over his Padawan's bed. Vibrant blue eyes were waiting for him. Oh, how I have missed those eyes. As a great sense of relief spread over him, Obi-Wan uttered a small prayer of gratitude into the Force.
Anakin's voice cracked, dry from weeks of silence. "Master, how… why…?"
"Always with the questions. Hush now, my Padawan. We'll talk later."
Anakin was having a hard time focusing. "Please…stay…"
Obi-Wan smiled and reached over to grasp his hand. "Of course, Anakin. My place is here. With you."