Disclaimer: GL & Co. own everything pertaining to the SW universe. I just play and love!

A/N: Thank so much for your patience! As the holidays approach, everything just seems to take longer, doesn't it? I appreciate all of your lovely encouraging reviews--it really helps when the words are not cooperating. For those who have inquired, this story will eventually contain some slash, but they have a complicated road to travel to that. I hope you will stick with me and the story. For the slash lovers, I am working on a little PWP to help tide you over, lol! Look for it very soon!

I must once again heap copious amounts of lovies on my dear beta and Jedi Twin, Xtine. Thanks for keeping me going hug. I upped the angst just for you, darling!


Chapter 5: The Path of Thorns

"I knew you wanted to tell me; in your voice there was something wrong.
But if you would turn your face away from me, you cannot tell me you're so strong…"

--S. McLachlan, The Path of Thorns

The morning light cut across the room, slowly illuminating the decadent trimmings that made up the space, the different shades of blue changing over from dark to light, just like the morning sky. The light cast playful shadows on everything it touched, figures that danced about with each movement of the curtains that were caught by the soft breeze.

When the light and the shadows reached Obi-Wan, he hardly noticed. Time had become irrelevant; two minutes or two days could have passed since he had found Anakin. He didn't care. It hurt too much to think, to move, or to feel.

He sat in numb silence at his Padawan's bedside, staring unfocused at the rise and fall of Anakin's chest as he slumbered. Anakin had fallen asleep almost instantly after asking his Master to stay. As exhausted as he was, sleep would not come to Obi-Wan, for he could not bring himself to let go, to close his eyes, to relax. There could be no relaxing; there was too much pain.

In some corner of his mind, he understood his body was crying out, demanding sleep and healing. He knew he was overdue for a new bacta patch; the wounds on his leg and shoulder had begun their rhythmic drumbeat in time with his heart again. But the pain in his body was really a mere nuisance, a physical trial to be endured. No, the worst of the pain stabbed both his mind and his heart with thousands of white-hot daggers whenever he tried to reach out to Anakin over their bond. Or rather, what remained of their bond.

It made him physically ill, knowing that he was responsible for damaging the thread that connected his mind so intricately— intimately, as Luminara had said— with Anakin's. He tried again, reaching out along that tendril, hoping… , only to be rewarded with a forceful crash into shields that rocked him back in the chair and a pain so intense it brought stinging tears to his eyes. He bit his lip and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, trying to not feel the pain, but knowing fully he deserved to feel every bit of that pain.

If only I could have spared you this agony, Anakin. I would take it all myself, if only I could.

So he sat, motionless, gaze unwavering, in the deafening silence that had become his mind. He wondered idly if the silence was better with or without being in Anakin's presence. Either way, he realized that for the first time since Qui-Gon's death, he was truly alone.

Alone. You are all alone, and it is all your doing, Obi-Wan. You did this.

Obi-Wan forced the thought away, burying it deep down with all of his other fears and anxieties. If he let it, those feelings would drown him now, and that was a selfish luxury he could not afford. He was alone, but he would not allow that to be Anakin's fate. He would be here when Anakin woke up. He was Anakin's Master; it was his responsibility to tell Anakin the horrible truth, even if Obi-Wan could barely face it himself.

In the meantime, before Anakin woke and was forced to face a reality from which his mind had already tried to escape, Obi-Wan would sit by his side, memorizing Anakin in this moment, the last bit of his Padawan's innocence. If he looked carefully, framing his vision just right, he could ignore what was missing from the picture. He could ignore that Anakin had been changed forever; that the boy he had trained was gone. He could ignore, for a little while longer, that his Padawan was going to wake up and look at his Master with hurt, loathing, and betrayal in his eyes. All because Obi-Wan had been overconfident, slow, and simply not good enough to find another way. He should have been able to save Anakin from Dooku, from the Force itself, without destroying a part of Anakin in the process.

"You must let go of the past and focus on the here and now, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's gentle reprimand sounded in his mind.

"Oh, Master, I don't know if I can do that," he whispered into the silence, as a solitary tear trickled down his cheek.

----

"Obi-Wan! Haja! What has happened?" Luminara rushed into Anakin's room, her enormous blue eyes wide with fright and concern. "I felt the disturbance as though I was right here with you. Are you all right?"

Obi-Wan said nothing as he sat impassively in the chair, staring at Anakin. She rushed over to him, shaking him gently when he didn't respond. "Obi-Wan, answer me. Obi-Wan!" she said forcefully, grabbing his chin and turning his face up to hers.

Tears were evident in his eyes, eyes that reflected a mix of relief, regret, and shock. "I found him, Luminara. I found him and brought him back," he said in a quiet, flat voice, as though he were afraid that by saying the words aloud it would not be true.

Luminara walked over to Anakin's bedside and placed an experienced hand over his forehead, partially closing her eyes in concentration. She reached out with the Force, finding his Force-signature blazing bright now, so unlike the muted glow it had had just a few hours ago. But still…it was somehow different.

Her Healer's sense probed further, finding a very strong, but frayed, tendril. As she followed the tendril, she quickly came up against his shields, shields that were locked in place, stronger than she had encountered before in him. His mind was not going to allow her in this time. And as she had suspected, given the intensity of the disturbance she had felt in the Force, his shields in that spot were marked by what she could only liken to a deep bruise. She bowed her chin to her chest briefly, murmuring a soft curse, and turned to Obi-Wan. "You broke through his shields, didn't you?" She asked without any hint of sanction nor condemnation.

Obi-Wan stared off with slightly unfocused eyes. "Yes," he answered distantly, dully. His hands began to twist restlessly with the folds of his robe. "Yes, I did the one thing I swore I would never do."

Luminara nodded with understanding. It was a difficult decision for any Master to make, though most Masters eventually resorted to using the technique, finding it a necessary form of discipline during a Padawan's adolescence. Given her difficulty in getting past Anakin's shields, only to find he would not listen to her, Luminara had warned Obi-Wan that a shield-breach might be the only way to reach Anakin. He had insisted that he would not do it, could not do it.

She moved over to him, kneeling down next to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she offered up a sympathetic look. "Obi-Wan, I am truly sorry. But I know you did not do it recklessly or with malice; I'm sure you had run out of options. You did what you had to do to save your Padawan. He is here, now, because as his Master and his friend, you had the courage to make that decision."

He shook is head almost imperceptibly, his eyes reflecting the deep remorse he felt. "He will never understand that, Luminara. I know Anakin, maybe better than he knows himself. He will not forgive me for breaking my promise." He slowly moved his gaze back to Anakin, his voice a pained whisper. "Loyalty is non-negotiable for him; betrayal unforgivable. I may have saved him, but I fear that in doing so, I have lost him."

Luminara stood and straightened her robes, blowing a frustrated breath out of her pursed lips. "Anakin is no longer a child, Obi-Wan. He has been a Padawan for ten years and knows the difficult decisions a Jedi faces every day. He made his decisions, you made yours." She paused for the briefest of seconds, then continued in a softer tone. "He will understand. It will take time and healing, my friend, but he will understand."

She placed her hand on his forehead, surveying his medical and emotional states with her Healer's sense. Force, but he's a wreck, she couldn't help thinking. His body was still fighting off an infection from his sabre wounds, he was physically and emotionally exhausted, and just like in Anakin, she spied the same frayed tendril that was their Force-bond. By breaking Anakin's shields, he had also damaged the bond they shared. Luminara was confident she would be able to guide the two Jedi in repairing their bond; she had spent enough time with them to see the utter devotion they had to each other. And the love. Complicated, but there is love, she thought to herself. Maybe now they will see it for themselves.

"Obi-Wan, please. You must rest. Your body needs— ,"

"No, Luminara." His voice was quiet, but deadly firm. His eyes did not stray from Anakin.

"My friend, please listen— ," she tried again.

"No. My place is here. He asked me to stay. I can at least honour that request."

She tried a different approach. Yes, it was a bit manipulative, but one had to be when dealing with the Order's most defiantly stubborn patient. If he won't do it for himself…

"Obi-Wan, do you really want to be unconscious from a number of ailments, the least of which is the infection you're fighting, and not be able to be here when Anakin wakes? Would you like me to be the one to tell him that you neglected your own care and now cannot be there for him?" He cast his eyes downward, unable to respond.

She stood tall and used her best "Healer" voice, stern, pompous, with just a hint of threatening. "Obi-Wan, if you persist in not caring for yourself, you leave me no other choice but to contact the Council and inform them that you are no longer able to care for yourself or your Padawan. I will request permission to sedate you— would you like that?"

He looked up at her, his blue-green eyes wide with shock. Good. That got his attention. Of course, she never had any intention of doing such a thing. She was counting on his devotion to Anakin, and his desire to keep the Council out of his personal affairs.

"Luminara, you do not need to make threats. I am handling this, and I am fine. I will stay here, with or without your, or the Council's, permission," he said with a cool, defiant tone.

The Healer was running out of options. All she could do now was appeal to his common sense, if he had any left. "Anakin will be asleep for hours, maybe even the rest of the day. In fact, I plan on putting him into a healing trance before I head to my room to meditate. His body and his mind need to begin the healing process," she said, then looked at him pointedly, "as do yours, Obi-Wan." She squeezed his hand. "My friend, you have done everything you can for him for the time being. Allow yourself to begin your healing so that you are ready when Anakin wakes. Please."

"Luminara, your concern is appreciated, but really, it is unnecessary. I will not leave Anakin. I have to be here when he wakes; I have to be the one to tell him. He deserves that much."

Luminara sighed deeply, her exasperation evident. "Obi-Wan…," she started again, but let the words dry up in the air. It was a battle she knew she could not win. "Well, you know my feelings on the matter. Please, my friend, try to get some rest. Even meditation will help you some."

She went back to Anakin and again placed her hands on his head and chest. Drawing on the Force, she planted a sleep suggestion in his mind, allowing his body to fall into a light healing trance. She let out a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned to leave the room.

"Luminara?" he asked, not yet moving, not even to face her.

She looked at Obi-Wan. "Yes?"

"I did the right thing, didn't I?" he asked in a small, trembling voice.

Her heart clenched at the torment she heard in his question. "Obi-Wan, you did what you had to do. That is all we can ask of ourselves when we have to make a difficult decision, and it is what must comfort us in the wake of that decision."

He didn't acknowledge her response.

Luminara let out the briefest of sighs and left for her room in the country mansion. She had a feeling she was going to need all the rest she could get.

Obi-Wan felt her go, but couldn't bring himself to say anything else. He noted, with some cynicism, that she hadn't confirmed the morality of what he had done, only the validity. This brought him very little comfort.

With some effort, he brought his hands up to rub at his eyes. Force, but am I tired. Somewhere in his tortured mind, Obi-Wan knew that he was running on vapors and desperately needed to rest. Meditation, he thought. I just need to meditate, and I'll be fine.

He hissed quietly as he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, the throbbing in his head becoming a sharp staccato beat until he lay perfectly still again. Carefully, he opened himself to the Force, and found himself falling, falling into its tranquil flow. He felt the soothing caresses smooth over the roughened spots that marked his soul, easing the tenderness of the bruises to his shields. He breathed in deeply as he felt the Force move through him, seeking the shadows that lay within him, bringing them into the healing Light. In a detached way, Obi-Wan felt the Force, and his mind, begin to travel along a familiar and comforting path. The path to Anakin. Warm, familiar memories came to him, allowing his anxieties to be washed away into the current.

He let himself fall further, now fully consumed by the healing embrace of the Force. He hoped the same was true for his sleeping apprentice.

-----

Anakin could smell the smoky char of his clothing, a stench that burned through his nostrils to rouse him into consciousness. He tried to lift his head, only to moan as every muscle in his body twitched involuntarily. He felt dazed, trying to blink away the confusion, trying to remember what had happened.

Dooku. The spark of blue lightning.

Through hazy eyes, he watched the flash of two lightsabres, green and red. His vision cleared, and to his horror, revealed his Master, laying on the ground, writhing in pain, a red Sith blade poised to deliver the death blow.

Without any conscious thought, as though the Force controlled his every action, he felt his body leap through the air, igniting his blade just in time to block the Sith's descent.

He felt Dooku's amusement, how the Sith Lord loved toying with them, his arrogance dripping from every word. "That was brave of you boy, but foolish. I would have thought you had learned your lesson," the Count sneered at him.

"I'm a slow learner," he heard himself growl with overconfidence, as he reached out and ignited the second sabre that had appeared in his hand. From his Master?

No time to think. Just act. Move. Prove Dooku wrong. Save his Master.

He twirled and swung the two blades in perfect precision, again feeling the Force flowing openly through him. He could feel his Master's concern for him through their bond, his worry and his fear and his…pain.

In this moment, it proved to be a costly distraction. He stumbled through his footwork, his body starting to slow, unable to compensate for the energy he was expending.

The Sith knocked one blade from his hand…

He only had a fraction of a second to recover his guard…

A fraction that was not nearly long enough.

Pain. There was pain…searing, burning pain…

Then, somehow, he was swimming…

"Mom!" he heard himself say, not stopping to wonder why she was there. He didn't care, because they were together.

"Ani, I've missed you. But you have to go back…go back…go back…"

"Yes, Anakin, you must follow your destiny." He heard Qui-Gon Jinn's voice.

He didn't want to go back… He couldn't go back…

He was swimming again, but the water was so dark…

So cold…

He was so alone…

His right arm started to fail him…

Just like he had failed his Master…

"Master! Master help me, please! I need you," he heard himself crying out, sounding no better than a young Padawan.

The water had become deeper, swallowing him into the darkness…

He felt it stealing his breath away, and he didn't care anymore…

A shocking pain exploded in his mind; water poured into his lungs…

He was drowning…

It was better this way…I failed my Master…

I'm the Chosen One… chosen for failure… never meant to be a Jedi…

"No, no, Master. Please. Let me go," he heard himself say over their bond.

Obi-Wan was there now, reaching out for him.

He heard his Master asking him to take his hand, to go back…

"I can't," he heard himself cry, "I can't, I can't…"

Anakin woke with a start, gasping for air, his eyes flitting back and forth in an attempt to get his bearings. He was all too familiar with the experience. A nightmare. It was just a nightmare, he told himself, closing his eyes while he reached into the Force to calm his breathing.

Only when he opened his eyes, and he looked around this fancy room that could only be of Padme's design, did the cold hand of dread start to creep around his heart. Pieces of his nightmare beckoned in his mind, trying to tell him something he knew he did not want to hear. Still groggy from sleep, his eyes wandered slowly across the ceiling catching the shadows dancing overhead, then followed the light out to the waving tree branches just beyond the double doors.

His focus moved to his bed, white and pristine, reminding him somehow of the Healer's Ward in the Temple. He saw the covers had been pulled up high, although he wore no sleep shirt. Edges of what appeared to be bacta patches on his chest peeked out from under the sheet. Was I injured? Why am I here? Across his chest lay what appeared to be a Padawan braid, but it couldn't be his, could it? It was much too long, and yet…it had all the same accolades as those he had earned. He frowned with confusion.

A gust of wind blew the curtains in, capturing his curiosity when he felt the breeze catch in his…hair?

What in the Force…?

In the second it took him tell his mind to convey the message that he wanted to lift his right arm to touch his head, the nightmare came roaring back into his consciousness…

"No…NO! " he began to scream, as he tried to sit up, falling back helplessly over and over as he found no way to support the right side of his body. His mind began swirl, as images from his nightmare, now his terrifying reality, came crashing down on him.

The fight with Dooku.

How he went rushing in, sabre blazing, cavalier and arrogant.

Being tossed like a youngling's toy across the hangar.

His Master, hurt and nearly killed.

Rushing in again, overconfident, into the fray.

Dooku mocking him, his blade impossibly fast.

Screams. Never ending screams.

He realized the screams were coming from his own mouth.

"NO…NO…NO!"

Obi-Wan was forcefully yanked from his healing meditation, assailed by the sounds of Anakin screaming, the sight of his Padawan convulsing in his bed with the effort of sitting up. He struggled out of the chair to Anakin's side, ignoring the protests of his leg. He grabbed Anakin by the shoulders, easing him back on the pillows, whispering soothing words to calm him, as he had the countless number of times he had comforted Anakin after one of his nightmares.

"Anakin. Anakin! Shhh… shhh… Anakin, it's all right, it's all right," he said quietly, but firmly, holding Anakin's face in his palms. "Anakin, look at me."

Anakin was wild-eyed with fear, his eyes darting around the room, barely able to focus on Obi-Wan. "Master? Master?"

"Yes, Anakin, I'm here, shhh…" Obi-Wan said, lightly rubbing Anakin's cheek, then taking his hand to brush the sweat-dampened curls off the younger man's flushed forehead. It cut Obi-Wan to his core to see that look in Anakin's eyes. The terror and the fear. The lost innocence.

I'm so sorry, my Padawan. I'm so sorry that you have to carry the burden of my failures. Coming back to himself, Obi-Wan took his hands away from his Padawan's face, a part of him uneasy with the affectionate gestures he found himself giving Anakin so freely.

Anakin strained to sit up again, grunting from the effort, but to no avail. He looked at his Master helplessly and felt the unwanted tears spring to his eyes. He began to shake his head in denial.

"No…Master, no…," he said in a voice so broken that it tore out a piece of Obi-Wan's heart. "Dooku, he- he… tell me he didn't, Master. Tell me he didn't take my arm." His eyes were begging Obi-Wan not to tell him any differently. To laugh and then reprimand him for once again jumping to conclusions. "Please, Master….please," he whispered desperately.

Anakin felt the bile rising higher and higher in his throat with each moment that his Master hesitated. He didn't want to see the sadness, the pity in Obi-Wan's eyes, but it was there. He could feel it through their bond, and he could hear it in his Master's voice when he said, "Yes, Anakin, he did. I'm so sorry."

Anakin shut his eyes, willing away the words, the look on Obi-Wan's face.

I lost my arm.

I don't have my right arm.

I have no hand, no fingers, no…arm.

His mind stole to all the things one did with an arm. With a hand and fingers. Things like eating or writing or katas or sabre practice…

By the fucking stars, no. Please no. Not my sabre arm…

"Master, I- I lost my sabre arm. Oh, Sith, Master, I lost my sabre arm," he said, his voice alarmingly quiet as he turned his head to look out the doors. Obi-Wan knew how much Anakin's identity as a Jedi was tied to his lightsabre skills. He was, simply, the best of the best with the weapon.

"Anakin. Listen to me. You will always be a Jedi." He tried to reassure Anakin, but he knew his Padawan's pride too well.

He turned to his Master, realizing that the whole conversation had become twistedly amusing. "A Jedi's lightsabre is his life, Master. How many times have you told me that?" He gave Obi-Wan a smile that held no mirth. He bit out a harsh laugh. "How can I be a Jedi if I can't even hold a lightsabre? Fucking Sith, I have no arm, Master!"

"I know, Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly, alarmed at the tone Anakin had taken, as though it was one of their many madcap misadventures. Oh, how I wish it was, Padawan. He could feel the hysteria building within Anakin, his desperation and fear threatening to overcome his Padawan. "But it does not make you any less of a Jedi, nor the Force run any weaker in you. You will be able to—"

"Master, are you looking at me? I don't have a fucking arm!" He laughed harder, his body shaking, even though the look in his eyes grew darker and more distraught with each passing moment.

Obi-Wan tried not to grimace as he sat on the edge of the bed, his leg protesting vigorously from the unexpected compression. He tried his best to put a comforting, yet stern and "masterly" tone to his voice. The last thing Anakin needs is an emotional outburst from his injured and pathetic Master.

"Yes, my Padawan. You have lost a limb, but you have survived, Anakin. Unfortunately, we- we did not fare well against Count Dooku." He looked down, absently smoothing out a wrinkle only he could see. He couldn't bear to look into Anakin's eyes, afraid of the condemnation he was sure to find.

Anakin noticed that his Master couldn't even look at him. You've failed him again, Chosen One. He can't even look at you, after what you've done. Obi-Wan is the perfect Jedi, and you never will be. You never have, and you never will be, good enough for him. You're damaged goods now. Someone to be pitied, not loved.

Anakin felt the rush of anger flare to life within him, a red veil that descended across his vision, blocking out all other thoughts and feelings. It was easier to retreat to that familiar, comforting, smothering blanket of anger. A choked laugh came out of Anakin's mouth as it twisted into a scowl. "Really? What would ever make you say that? I mean, I'm only missing my arm!" came the sarcastic reply.

"Anakin, don't. Don't do this." Obi-Wan turned away, unable to face the anger he felt swirling around Anakin's Force-signature. He reached out along their bond, attempting to soothe Anakin's anger, his grief, his— . Without warning, Anakin's shields slammed into place, forcing Obi-Wan out.

"Don't you dare! Don't you even try, Master!" Anakin's eyes sparked with anger and resentment.

"Anakin— "

"No." His voice became icy. "I remember, Master. I remember everything."

Obi-Wan turned slowly, finding his eyes locked with Anakin's, deep blue orbs filled with hurt and accusations.

"I know what you did, what you promised me you would never do. Don't stand here and pretend you care about me. You never have. Master, you promised!" he said, his voice breaking.

"I know Anakin. I'm…sorry. But I- I have a responsibility for you. I'm your Master… you nearly died… " he trailed off, choking on the last words. It would have been more than I could bear, my Padawan.

Anakin glared at him. "Did you ever stop to think that's what I wanted? I was happy— my mother was there, did you know that?" he yelled. "I didn't even get to say goodbye!" His eyes narrowed, his hurt and anger consuming him now. "Of course not." He tossed his hand into the air in frustration. "I'm just a Padawan. Never mind that I lost my arm—you just felt it was a good time to violate my mind?"

The accusation felt like a sharp kick to his ribs, knocking the breath from him with its intensity. "No, of course not! Anakin, you were lost for two weeks; the Healers could not reach you," He held out his hands, imploring Anakin to understand. "The Force had taken you so far away… I tried everything…I didn't want to do it Anakin! Please believe me— I- I had no other choice. You were drowning in the Force, Anakin, consumed by your own fears and grief and pain," he said, his voice straining from the effort of controlling the emotions that threatened to consume him.

"Don't presume to know how I feel about anything, Master," he said defensively. "Funny, I don't recall you ever caring before. I'm sorry I've been such a responsibility, Master. Such a burden," he bit out accusingly. "You should have just let me go!"

"Anakin, how can you say that? You're my Padawan. I've been your Master for ten years, for Sith's sake." He ran a nervous hand through his hair, feeling powerless under Anakin's verbal assault. How can he not know how much I care for him? The realization rocked him. Padme was right— Oh Anakin, you have never been a burden, not to me.

"Say what? That it would have been better that I had died? Better that than," he gestured to his missing limb, "this?"

"Anakin…"

With his left hand, Anakin yanked the covers up over the white sleeve that concealed his shame and rolled over on his side. He didn't want to look at it, feel it, or acknowledge what it was, and what it wasn't, anymore. With his eyes on the far wall, he said in a flat voice, "I want you to leave."

Biting his lip, Obi-Wan lay his hand softly on the younger man's shoulder. "Anakin, please— "

He flinched away from his Master's touch. "Don't. Get out. Now."

The dark, cold words slashed into Obi-Wan's soul. Obi-Wan lifted his hand and let it drop to his side, his shoulders sagging with despair. He found his cane and began shuffling toward the door.

Oh, Anakin. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry, my Padawan, I'm sorry.

He was rewarded only with silence.

---

Anakin listened to his Master leave. When he heard the door close, he took a deep breath, and let it out.

And he began to cry.