Chapter 5 – Reunion: Breakdown
Author's Note: I just want to say this again. Vader in here is not canon Vader, okay, so he really is not acting ooc, imo. He is - after what happened between him and Obi-Wan, thinking that he lost everyone in so short a time, his mind... split, I guess, so there is a part of him which is still 22. It happens sometimes in extreme trauma and losing everyone (or thinking he lost them) the way he did, it broke his mind. Just... keep that in mind and enjoy the very, very emotional conversation! :)
This is the last chapter I have written, and I do not intend to write anymore in this universe, but there is plenty which needs to be addressed in the larger universe, including Vader's actions under Sidious. Those things will be dealt with just not in this fic as of right now (probably ever). I wrote this last chapter, in particular for the angst, hurt/comfort, and pain. Lol.
Enjoy! :D
~ Amina Gila
Vader doesn't know where he's going. He only knows that he needs to get away from everyone so he can clear his head. He has little desire to analyze his emotional status at the moment; he simply needs to find a way for him to release what he feels before their power overwhelms him. The controls of the speeder bike are familiar under his hands, and he pushes the machine to its limits, zipping across the ground and into the trees. He ducks under a few bigger branches, ignoring the way the smaller ones hit his helmet and armor, snagging at his cape. Vader stops after a time, abandoning the speeder bike and making his way deeper into the forest on foot.
There have been precious few times when he's felt so close to losing himself entirely, and each one was accompanied by immense destruction. It's best not to tempt fate and leave the speeder within the radius of the storm. He walks, ignoring the leaves crunching beneath his boots, disregarding the birds that are chirping overhead. The Dark Side is hammering at him, demanding that he give in to it, that he use it, that he magnify his pain by inflicting even more.
Then, he stops. Slowly, he reaches up and removes his helmet, letting it fall to his feet. He extends his senses, letting himself feel the life around him, knowing that it will soon be destroyed. He feels the grief, the pain, the guilt for a moment before pushing it in with the rest of the agony and fury whirling within him. It's too much. He feels too much, and he wants to make it stop. By now, he should have become inured to pain, unable to feel the sting of hurt as acutely as he did years ago. But for whatever reason, his ability to feel has never changed, not as a Jedi and not as a Sith. Such is his fate.
He tilts his head back slightly, gaze trailing up the trees, looking at their size. And then, Vader lets go. He stops fighting with himself, with the emotions that are overwhelming him. Closing his eyes, he lets everything wash over him, lets it radiate into the Force. The pain is searing, more acute than anything he's felt in a long time. He's been holding it back for so long, probably ever since he first realized that his children were indeed still alive.
As the first tears come, he screams, giving voice to everything which he feels. He's as angry as he is hurt. The Dark Side responds to his pain, and he pulls it in, letting it rush through him, rippling outwards and crashing into everything that surrounds him. The trees give way under the force he's exerting on them with naught but his mind, and he rips them apart with a rage fueled by the Dark Side. He is the center of the storm, and it rages around him, wild and untamable. There's nothing which can calm it, nothing which can stop it.
It begins to die down eventually, and Vader opens his eyes. He dropped to his knees sometime during the outburst. Slowly, he looks around, taking in the devastation which he just caused. All the trees and plants within a one-hundred-foot radius have been all but disintegrated, nothing in their places but shreds of greenery and slivers. He doesn't regret it, not by any means. It was necessary. This was the only way he could bring himself back under control, and now, for the first time in weeks – maybe even months – he feels calm and in control.
The Dark Side is still within him, obviously, but it's controlled, manageable. He also feels the most curious sense of resignation. He wipes the telltale signs of tears from his face with his gloved hands, stiffening when he feels an all too familiar presence approaching. Vader doesn't move as Obi-Wan steps through the trees, looking around at the scene before him.
"If you're here to kill me, just do it," he says tonelessly. Right now, he doesn't have the energy for a fight. He doesn't want to fight. Not Obi-Wan. Not again.
"As a matter of fact, I'm not," Obi-Wan replies after a moment. There's a strange inflection in his voice, but Vader can't be bothered to discern why. He's emotionally and mentally exhausted from his breakdown, but he'll recover by tomorrow. By tomorrow, he'll be the Sith Lord and Emperor that he pretends to be. With the Dark Side so deeply entrenched within him, he can withstand a great deal of emotional pain without snapping. It's something he learned after he lost… everyone.
Vader lets out a quiet breath, tilting his head to look up at the Jedi Master. He's well aware of the tears drying on his face, but it's not as though everyone doesn't already know that he lost control. He can feel his children's presences on the edge of his consciousness. They're worried about him, but they don't want to push him either. They're waiting far enough away from him in the Force so as to give him privacy while remaining attuned to his emotional status. Well, he's shielding again now, so they won't feel much.
Obi-Wan's expression is inscrutable as usual, but his blue-gray eyes hold a deep, aching sorrow. Whatever hostility he'd been expressing earlier – and now that Vader is seeing him again, he realizes that there was a lot – is gone. It unsettles him. He doesn't trust Obi-Wan at all. Frankly, he trusts Princess Winter Organa of Alderaan more than the Jedi Master, even though she partially blames him for her planet's destruction. And that's saying a lot, because the two of them really don't get along. She's headstrong, and she's a princess, born into royalty and raised for the throne. She's everything he is not and never could be.
"What do you want?" Vader asks, tone not quite as sharp as he would have liked.
"To talk," Obi-Wan answers simply. He takes a few steps forwards, surprising Vader by sitting down opposite him, far enough away that neither of them will be uncomfortable while close enough that their conversation will be somewhat private. The Jedi folds his hands in his lap, seeming perfectly at ease, even though he can undoubtedly feel the Dark Side clinging to everything in the vicinity. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, do elaborate." It's not his fault that every syllable is dripping with sarcasm. Obi-Wan has never apologized before, and Vader doubts that he's willing to start now, especially not when Vader is his enemy and the one responsible for murdering his Padawan.
Something pained flashes across Obi-Wan's face. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "About everything." Vader raises an eyebrow at the proclamation, contenting himself with remaining quiet until Obi-Wan elaborates. If he elaborates. He doesn't end up waiting long. "I… I set up the trap," he admits, and Vader is careful to keep his face blank. It's not as if he'd expected anything different. "When I met Master Yoda, he – he insisted that we had to destroy the Sith." Each word sounds as if it's being ripped out of him.
Obi-Wan's eyes are focused on the ground, his fingers twisting the edges of his sleeves. Even without his visible signs of discomfort, Vader would still have been able to feel the Jedi's uncertainty and uneasiness through the Force. "I didn't want to," he continues, "But he insisted, so I – I…" He gestures pointlessly. "The trap," he finishes lamely. His mask falters for a moment, and Vader can see the pain on his face. "I thought… well, I don't know, but then you killed the other Jedi… and – and I thought Yoda was right that – that you were… gone."
"I lashed out," he whispers, closing his eyes for a moment. "I – I was trying to hurt you. It was wrong, and I – I've always regretted it." Obi-Wan looks up finally, searching Vader's face as if he's trying to find something. Tears are glistening in his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall. It makes something sharp and uncomfortable shift within Vader to see it. Obi-Wan doesn't cry or show emotions. It was one of the first things he established when he became a Padawan.
This entire conversation is making him want to flee, but he's rooted to the spot. Never before has Obi-Wan revealed even a fraction of anything going on inside his head, and Vader wants to know more. He's asked himself repeatedly what exactly went wrong, what happened to make Obi-Wan react the way he did, because nothing could have prepared him for the complete renunciation of everything that made them… well, the Team. He's never had any answers, never had any way to find them, and now that he's getting answers to questions he's never voiced, he doesn't think he can leave. If either of them plans to be around each other for more than a few seconds without trying to maim, dismember, or murder the other, they have to talk. He knows that. It doesn't mean he has to like it.
"I should never have said those things to you, because they're not true," the Jedi Master tells him. Through the Force, Vader can feel his sincerity, feel that he believes every word he's now saying. What caused the sudden change of heart, he doesn't know.
"Aren't they?" Vader asks sardonically. "Anakin is gone, despite whatever you might want to say or believe. That name no longer has any meaning to me."
"You say that, because it's what I told you," Obi-Wan objects.
Vader wants to argue, except he doesn't have an argument for that. Perhaps he might have begun to think this way regardless. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, whether or not Obi-Wan initiated the mentality, that doesn't make it any less true. He says as much, voice inflectionless. He probably ought to be feeling something, but instead, he feels oddly numb, as if none of this has or will have an impact on him. "Perhaps," he allows, "But it is nevertheless true. I am not – I cannot be the person I used to be. He existed a lifetime ago, but no more."
"Time changes everyone," Obi-Wan reminds him. As their conversation progresses, his conflicting emotions only seem to increase in intensity, muddling the Force around him. "All we can do is accept the past and our mistakes and move forwards."
Nice in theory. Difficult in practice. Vader doesn't comment though; he has something else bothering him. "Why are you even here talking to me?" he queries bluntly. "It would be easier for everyone involved if you simply tried to kill me." The last sentence he mutters under his breath, momentarily forgetting that no, he's not wearing a helmet, which means that there's no way he won't be overheard.
"Do you want to die?" The question is neutral, and Vader knows that Obi-Wan is carefully shielding his thoughts and feelings on the subject matter.
He's on the verge of making a snappish remark, but he restrains himself, remembering how close he had come to death on Malachor, how much he'd wanted to feel it, to feel the Force ripping him apart molecule by molecule and being assured that there would never be any more 'later's' or 'next times.' He thinks about his children, about how he's only just beginning to get to know them. They care about him deeply, but they have survived this long without him. He wouldn't – he wouldn't be callous enough to take his own life, though he realizes that he doesn't much mind the idea of someone else doing it for him.
"What if I did?" he says instead. "You know that when the Empire is transitioned back to a Republic, I will likely be executed."
"Considering how much you're doing to reinstate the Republic, I doubt that to be true," Obi-Wan argues, shaking his head, "But now we're off topic." He pauses before continuing. "I came here because Ahsoka and your children asked me to. They're right. We need to talk about this, if only to find closure and move on." He's hiding his feelings again for whatever reason, and he looks oddly uncertain and vulnerable.
Move on. Vader doesn't know if that's possible for him. His life has been defined by what happened. Slowly, everything is being shredded and rubbed raw again, and he doesn't like it. Being here with Obi-Wan, sensing his Force signature, so distant yet so close… It feels like he's drowning. He crosses his arms, wishing that he could disappear. It's a feeling to which he's not unaccustomed.
"I don't… Listen, it doesn't matter," he snaps, irritated. "None of it matters. I don't think there's anything which we need to discuss." He carefully tries not to think about Obi-Wan's confession, about his apology, lest he come completely undone.
"Then can you truthfully tell me that nothing about what happened bothers you, even now?" The Jedi Master pointedly looks around the new clearing, at the devastation which still surrounds them. It feels like a reflection of Vader's heart and soul, but he doesn't say that.
Vader remains stubbornly mute, refusing to answer the question. His silence alone is enough of an answer, and this time, he's the one who is staring down at the ground. That doesn't mean that he can't feel Obi-Wan's sad smile.
"Anakin –" Oh, that is so unfair. He's using the tone that he only ever has used on – in another lifetime. Vader could never forget it, the way he says that name with an underlying fondness.
"That is not my name," he grits out.
Obi-Wan ignores the interruption altogether. He also, thankfully, doesn't comment on how Vader let Ahsoka call him that earlier. "What did – what did you think, or hope, would happen?"
He hardly needs to specify, but Vader isn't planning to make this easy. His heartrate picks up, and he knows Obi-Wan must have felt the sudden spike of fear before he smothers it. "I hoped Sidious would die of a heart attack," he replies blandly, meeting his former master's eyes in time to see a brief flicker of amusement and fondness. It would hurt less, he thinks, to be stabbed by a lightsaber. Repeatedly.
Obi-Wan's hand twitches as if he's about to reach out but thinks better of it. "How did you think, hope I would react to what happened?" he asks gently.
"I don't know," Vader lies. On many sleepless nights, he could think of nothing else. He had wondered – obsessively, sometimes – how Obi-Wan would react if he was still alive, not realizing that he, in fact, was living. He thought up so many fantasies, versions of reality where the Obi-Wan who faced him was one who cared. Suddenly, he feels like crying again, but he still has his dignity, so he won't. It shouldn't – it shouldn't hurt so much. Love isn't supposed to hurt.
"You don't have to tell me," Obi-Wan assures him, though he sounds almost disappointed, "But it would make this easier if I knew what you think and feel about what happened."
Silence falls between them, and Vader wonders what he even should say to that. He doesn't think he has the strength to actually admit what Obi-Wan is asking for. He's never talked about it before, and he doesn't really want to start now. Merely thinking about it sometimes can make him lose control.
"I don't think there's been a single day when I haven't thought about it," confesses the Jedi several minutes later, bowing his head. "I – Ana- Vader, I love you. It feels like I always have, ever since the moment I first met you. And – and even now… I still do."
Vader can't quite imagine what it must have taken for Obi-Wan to be willing to say any of that. He was always closed off and aloof, even in the face of Vader's blatant attachment to him. Him reciprocating those feelings always seemed so unattainable that Vader had long despaired of it ever happening. He doesn't know what he's supposed to feel now that it finally has. It doesn't quite register, much less sink in, that Obi-Wan just professed his love for him, for Vader. Why would he? Why does he? Vader's long known – thought? – that Obi-Wan hated him, so hearing the exact opposite leaves him feeling… confused and hurt.
"How can you?" he asks, voice breaking. He knows that he sounds lost, desperate. His entire worldview has been upended for the second time in his life, and he wants it to stop. It's so much easier to function when his reality is solid and settled. The truth for him is that he never stopped loving Obi-Wan. He couldn't. He tried, but he never quite managed to rouse anything even close to hatred in his heart. The most he could achieve was a desperate yearning.
Obi-Wan opens his mouth, closing it again. For a moment, he looks almost as broken as Vader himself feels. "I've asked myself that question more times than I can count," he murmurs, fingers clenching in the fabric of his robes. He sounds defeated now. "I don't know. You have… always been different, though not in a bad way. I – I would say special, even. You are – I raised you. I know how you are, even if I don't understand why you act as you do. You have been… important to me for a long time, and – and that's not something I can change, even now."
There is much which he isn't saying, that much Vader is certain of, but at the same time, it's as if Obi-Wan genuinely has no idea how to express the emotions he's feeling. He didn't really answer the question, though his… explanation allowed Vader to sense the conflict he's experiencing. It's shielded, of course, but not as well as it used to be.
"You are telling the truth," Vader mumbles numbly, turning his head slightly to look at his helmet. It's lying on the ground next to his leg, unmarred by the storm that ripped through the trees. He doesn't know how to feel about that. He doesn't even know what to think about that. For years, years he's lived under the impression that Obi-Wan loathed him. What else was he supposed to think after the cruel words he'd hurled at him?
And now… He isn't Anakin Skywalker. He never can be again because that man is gone. He was broken down so far that it was only through sheer willpower that Vader pulled himself back together and forced himself to live. What is the point of this? How can they talk things out, when Vader doesn't even know what they have to talk about? Is there even anything to say? Obi-Wan might be genuine now, but Vader has long forgotten what it was like to be the man that Obi-Wan remembers. He isn't him. He never will be him. Not anymore.
"What do you want from me, Obi-Wan?" Vader questions at last, meeting the tormented gaze of his former master though unshed tears.
"I only want us to work this out, because Ahsoka and your children are right. We do need to," the Jedi tells him. His sincerity is obvious, but the truth is, Vader has never known him. The memories are not his, not truly. They belong to another, and he – he has no right to them, no claim to them. To Vader, Obi-Wan is a stranger, an echo of a bygone era. So why does it still hurt so much?
Obi-Wan shifts, moving a bit closer. He seems to be fighting with himself to not reach out and touch Vader. It's something that he used to do, because it's not as if it was ever a secret that Vader craves physical contact. If nothing could calm him or keep him focused, then Obi-Wan's touch could ground him in the present moment.
"And I – I miss you," Obi-Wan admits. "I miss what we had."
Those words hurt almost as much as the ones that have haunted his nightmares. He inhales shakily, clenching his fists as he pulls on the Dark Side, though it's not nearly enough to dull the pain and grief that are slowly drowning him. Their conversation now is in stark contrast to the one they had on that planet, in that abandoned Republic base. He knows what he wants, but his desires are… fantasy. They can never be more than a daydream because he cannot undo what's been done, much as he might wish it.
"I would have done anything for you, you know." Vader doesn't even mean to say it, but the words slip out anyways, and once he starts talking, he can't make himself stop. "You didn't ask me anything… You just assumed." His expression twists with bitterness. "I couldn't ask you for help because I couldn't trust you anymore. You never – you never apologized for… anything. You made excuses. You constantly chose the Council." The over me remains unspoken, but it's still there, hanging the air between them. "I loved you, and you cast it – me – aside as if it meant nothing to you." He's shaking, his control slowly slipping away, but he can't stop. This has been trapped inside of him for so long, and he wants to let it out, he needs to let it out.
"You asked what I wanted, what I hoped for," he remembers. "You. You, Padme –" He can barely bring himself to say her name, even now. "– My children, Ahsoka… I wanted you to be safe and with me. I wanted to protect you. I hoped…" His voice breaks as fantasies of the future he'd hoped for come to mind, unbidden. "I hoped that you would understand, that you wouldn't reject me, that you wouldn't… leave."
He blinks, a tear escaping and spilling down his face. He's a Sith Lord. He's the Emperor. But somehow, Obi-Wan can still make him feel like he's a child. With everyone else, his mask is solid, impenetrable. Not with Obi-Wan. He somehow manages to see him, even if he's hiding from himself. He is, he can see that now. Much as Vader might like to think that the past is in the past, he's never actually accepted it. He's buried it in lieu of coming to terms with it, because he couldn't, because he didn't know how to accept the rejection and the deaths which followed right after. So, he hid.
It was easier to dissociate Vader and Anakin, thinking of them as separate, because he wasn't able to properly grasp what had happened. It's probably a good thing he didn't, or his infrequent suicide attempts – Malachor was the worst, by far – wouldn't have been "attempts." His mind broke, for lack of a better term, and he'll never be able to heal until he's able to accept and move past what happened. Padme is dead – she has been dead for many years – but their children live on. And Obi-Wan is still living as well. In the end, he only lost his wife, so why can't his mind seem to accept that?
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says again, and he truly means it. "You've never really accepted it, have you." It's a statement, not a question, and Vader doesn't know what to make of the sudden understanding in his former master's voice. Beneath the understanding lies a muted horror, as if whatever realization Obi-Wan had has left him in shock.
And what is he supposed to say to that? "You need to accept it," the Jedi continues softly, "If you want to be able to move on. Will you – will you let me help you?"
"I can't trust you," Vader informs him faintly. It's the truth, but Force, it hurts, especially when he reflects on how close they used to be. But if they can, by some miracle, rebuild something, it might be for the best that everything they had was destroyed. It only means that they'll be able to do it better, make it stronger.
"I deserve that," states Obi-Wan, something almost self-recriminatory in his voice. "If you cannot believe what I say, can you believe what you feel?"
Vader has the feeling that he knows where his former master is taking the conversation, and he doesn't know if he likes it. "Possibly." In truth, he doesn't know. He doesn't know if he can even trust himself anymore.
Obi-Wan reaches out with the Force just as Vader expected he would. "I have nothing to hide," he declares quietly, lowering his shields enough for Vader to enter his mind if he so chooses.
Inexplicably, his heart is pounding. He wants the truth, wants the reassurances, but he doesn't know if he can accept any of it. Besides, the thought of entangling himself with that familiar Force signature – that is, at its core, so similar despite the passage of time – terrifies him. Their bond is still there, still whole, though it's weakened considerably. Now, it's no more than a fine thread connecting them, and it will remain until one of them dies. If Vader does what Obi-Wan asks, then he'll be strengthening it. He doesn't know if he wants that either, but really, what does he have to lose anymore? He thought that all of his worst fears were realized, so would it matter if he learns that, despite Obi-Wan's words, nothing has truly changed?
Yes. It would destroy him completely. He can hide from reality, delude himself into believing that he's accepted a past he's rejected, but he cannot conceal himself from a truth laid out in someone else's mind.
Vader reaches out, slowly and hesitantly, brushing the outer shields of Obi-Wan's mind. His blue-gray eyes are determined now and almost beseeching. He wants Vader to do this; he wants him to see the truth, and Obi-Wan might be many things, but he can't possibly be cruel enough to offer aid while destroying everything Vader has ever thought. If he ever cared about Anakin, he would never use those feelings in such a manner.
He steps forwards in the Force, and Obi-Wan lets him past his shields, lets him see his mind. There are no secrets here, save the ones Obi-Wan has from himself. If they exist, they shouldn't be ones which can hurt him. Hopefully.
Vader is momentarily swamped by emotions, and it takes him a moment to actually focus so that he can get a better understanding of what he's feeling and why. Love is the strongest, and it's mingled with regret. Unlike most times when they've linked minds in the past, Obi-Wan is shielding nothing this time, allowing Vader a clear, uncensored image of what's in his mind. He doesn't resist when Vader probes lightly, cautious about hurting him.
And he sees himself through Obi-Wan's eyes. The love is fierce enough that devotion might even be the right word for it. Obi-Wan does love him, far more than he'd ever expected, far more than he deserves. That affection is also mingled with confusion and pain. Obi-Wan doesn't understand what happened, what went wrong. He'd fought against himself for years, refusing to acknowledge that, even after he saw Vader killing Jedi, he still loved him just as much as before. He didn't – doesn't – want to hurt him; he never even realized that he was, except it must be true. He regrets that, and he regrets even more what he said to Vader on that planet, the name of which neither of them even remembers anymore.
If he had a choice, he would redo it all, he would offer aid and support instead of war. Obi-Wan wants to help him now as well. He's finally succumbed to the inevitable, letting himself embrace the love that he's always felt. If he'd had to choose, he would have been willing to leave the Order with Anakin. He has many questions too, about Vader's experiences and feelings, questions that he never thought to ask before, because he didn't even realize that he needed to. He wants to understand, and he's hoping that, at some point, they'll actually be able to have a more in-depth talk about… their relationship and their shared past.
But that time will not be now, so Vader filters that fact aside, tentatively letting himself feel the extent of Obi-Wan's love for him. It will be hard, but he can at least try to put some faith in his former master. Vader pulls back into his own mind, wondering what the next step should be for both of them.
"Let me be your anchor," Obi-Wan offers, slowly holding out a hand towards him. "You won't be able to heal without confronting what happened, but I'll be here with you, every step of the way, I promise."
This is it. Either Vader can accept the offer and try to find a way to achieve balance within himself, or he can reject that help, letting himself drift forever in the fantasies of what once was and what could have been. Maybe he'll be gambling with himself again, but he's so tired of fighting himself constantly, battling to keep himself together on his own. It's a losing battle, and one day, he knows he'll fail, it's only a matter of when. If he accepts, Obi-Wan will be here. He'll be able to do what Vader can't do alone. He'll be able to put him back together after, and only after, he lets himself fully fall apart.
Slowly he reaches out and takes Obi-Wan's hand with his left one. He can't feel it, not really, not through the leather glove, but he can feel the pressure at least. It's enough to let him know that this is real. When Vader looks up, Obi-Wan is smiling softly, sadly, but the affection in his eyes his unmistakable. "May I?" He doesn't need to clarify, because Vader can tell what it is that he's asking, and he hesitates for only an instant before nodding.
Is it bad that he can trust this man who shattered him entirely after seeing the depths of his caring? Should he be more wary? Probably. But he's tired of everything, and he doubts that anything he faces can hurt more than what he's already endured.
Obi-Wan shifts closer, slowly moving so that he's sitting next to Vader instead of across from him. "I love you," he murmurs, reaffirming what Vader has already seen and felt. "I don't want you to doubt that." Vader knows that it's hard for the Jedi to say those words, especially when they fly in the face of all the Jedi traditions, but Obi-Wan has changed, is changing. Perhaps it won't be as hard as he thought for them to actually reach an accord. This is only the beginning.
"I cannot make any promises," Vader tells him, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go, "But I can – I am willing to try what you are asking of me."
It doesn't help that a part of him desperately wants to have someone who can take care of him, especially since he'd been alone for twenty years before he met his children. He's strong for them, because he has to be, but there are many times when he doesn't feel very strong, plagued by a myriad of insecurities which have always been his weakness. Obi-Wan is here, and he's offering everything Vader has yearned for. He doesn't see why he shouldn't accept it, even if does later come to regret it.
Obi-Wan touches his arm lightly, the sensation fleeting; he can't really feel it through his armor. Still, that casual touch makes something inside of him snap entirely, and he moves almost without conscious decision, wrapping his arms around the elder man, all but crushing him against him. It's entirely impulsive, but he doesn't regret it either. There's a flare of surprise from Obi-Wan, though he seems pleased, securing his arms around Vader's back and holding him. Vader buries his face against his former master's shoulder, breathing shallowly as his emotions spiral entirely out of control.
"Accept it," Obi-Wan reminds him. He doesn't need to clarify.
A strangled sound escapes from him as his mind drifts back to the past, back to the moment that Anakin Skywalker broke and died. And Vader remembers. "Master," he breathes desperately, not wanting to be alone. He might have called Sidious that, but the title – the affection and admiration – were only reserved for Obi-Wan. Over the years, it came to mean something almost akin to the word father, not that he would have shared that with anyone.
"I'm here," Obi-Wan promises, smoothing his fingers through Va- Anakin's hair. It's the only part of Anakin that he can touch where Anakin will actually feel it.
Anakin breaks down in his arms, mourning the past – their past – and everything which he's lost. He could swear that his eyes fade to blue for a moment when he hears the words, but it will take far more to actually pull him back from the Dark Side. His emotions crash like a tidal wave into the Force, kicking up a storm around them, though it's not nearly as violent as the one before, because this one is rooted in grief, not pain.
The past is in the past. It's time that he learns how to lay it to rest, so that he – they – can heal, but he won't be doing it alone. Obi-Wan is here – always, he whispers into Anakin's mind – and they'll do it together. After all, they're The Team. They can't seem to survive apart, forever drawn back into the other's orbit. If they're together, they can do anything.
**w**
It takes hours. Obi-Wan doesn't know what else he was expecting because this is Anakin. He's always felt so deeply and so much. When they finally fly back to where everyone else is, the sun is setting, and he's mildly surprised that no one sent out a search party to find them. They have a long way to go, but they can handle it. They're back together, and they just might understand one another far better than they ever did before. Their bond is alive again, humming warm and bright in the back of Obi-Wan's mind, and he knows – he knows that they'll be alright.
Final Notes: If you want to join our Discord to receive updates or just hang out, here's the invite link, and please delete the spaces! :) discord . gg / nqSxuz2
We also have a tumblr account (and delete the spaces): fanfictasia . tumblr . com
And! We have a YT channel for tributes! Please delete the spaces in the link. :D youtube channel / UC_g1M5rSCxJUzQCRS29B6pA
Finally, if you're interested, you can submit a SW gift fic request via the following form (delete the spaces): forms . gle / rmXWtRomMMaULuPa6
