A/N: As ever and always, I owe many thinks to my beta TM, who gave me the plot bunnies to take this from a 2-page chapter to an 8-pager with (gasp) an actual PLOT! Any mistakes remaining are all mine, however.
Usually I reply to everybody who reviews me, but I'm anxious to post this one in a hurry, sorry! So I'll address these to the UBERreviews I received, although I love you all! (hugs everybody).
Sarah: I'm glad that you enjoyed chapter 3 so much! This one is probably more of a 'typical Xtine' chapter (lol) but I hope that it continues to please my Jedi sister! And we're beginning to get into the slashy themes here... I hope that it lives up to your assessment of my 'het' in the last few chapters.
Monchy: I'm glad that you like the way this is developing between the two of them! This next chapter is going to crank it up a notch in terms of their relationship, at least on one side. (Well, you'll see). But you're right; I didn't want to rush anything between them... I hope that this buildup will pay off for you readers though! (and I'm glad you liked Anakin hugging Mace! )
Brynne: I know, Qui would have been so upset with the way they had been acting for the past couple of years. But everything will be, if not perfect, then a lot smoother between the two of the boyos. As for the crush, I think this chapter will answer your question!
Phoenix: I would love to say that the hardest step is indeed over, but it's really just the first of many. The boys still have a long way to go before they're truely happy... but you can take my word that I'm going to have this one end happily.
Wyndmir: I love the ideas for the bumper stickers. Heh, I need to make one now. LOL. This chapter will have (I hope) a lot of emotion as well. Glad that you like it!
Shadow Padawan: I hope that this chapter starts to pay off on the developing emotions front! Glad that you like it!
TM: THANK YOU for the present plot-bunny. This chapter would have been far too short and unemotional and just overall blah without you to help me develop it. Thank you so much! I know that this was time for Super-Beta, and you came through magnificently. This chapter is entirely dedicated to you. Heck, this whole story is for you. I hope that my additions and changes meet with your exacting standards... I probably should have run them by you, but I know that the last thing you want to do right now is more betaing, lol! And besides, I wanted to surprise you! Hope that my gamble paid off. LOVES AND HUGGLES and YAY!
Happy Early Valentine's Day, Everybody!
IV – Anakin is 17 years old
"I'm… I'm really sorry mom." Anakin hated that his voice trembled and cracked as he spoke. "I-I know that you were looking forward to it too. Yes. I know. I'm sorry… but… but I have to stay here, mom. It's important. Yes. Yes. I love you too mom. Take care for my sake, all right? Love you.
"Goodbye."
----
It was the morning of the Solstice. Anakin had lain in bed for a long time, staring up at the ceiling as dawn's light had slowly lightened the room from cold blue, through rosy pink, to the current brilliant white. Rolling over onto his side listlessly, Anakin squinted his eyes against the intense light, before reluctantly pushing himself out of bed.
Padding into the hallway, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes, Anakin cracked the door of his Master's room open and peered inside. He smiled tightly at the sight that met his eyes, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He hadn't wanted to leave last night, had been forced into his own room by Master Luminara. It had been a pointless exercise; Anakin hadn't been able to sleep a wink anyways. Staying in his Master's room would have at least given him some peace of mind.
But Obi-Wan was still sleeping, curled up tightly under a thin white sheet that gleamed in the morning light. It made him look like a Force-vision, soft waves of coppery hair and tanned skin glowing from the sun's rays.
Anakin sighed, running one hand through his bristly Padawan hair. Master Luminara had said that the sedative she had given Obi-Wan would wear off sometime today, and that Anakin could stop worrying because 'Obi-Wan would be perfectly fine'. And if not perfectly fine, then at least he was alive. Luminara seemed to think that ought to be good enough for Anakin.
But it wasn't. It didn't take the edge off of his anxiety at all. Nothing would, not until Obi-Wan was awake and back to his old sarcastic self. Until those blue-grey eyes regarded him with exasperation once more, until that cultured voice was reprimanding him for being careless yet again, Anakin wouldn't be content.
Slipping silently into the room, Anakin perched carefully on the edge of his Master's bed. Obi-Wan had rolled over onto his side, strands of hair falling over his closed eyes. Anakin gently brushed the pieces away, smoothing them back off Obi-Wan's face. A slight frown marred Anakin's features as his fingers drifted lower, to the bacta-soaked bandages that were tightly wound around Obi-Wan's waist.
The mission had gone as well as could be expected – which meant terribly, of course. The city had fallen; the royal family was dead, with the exception of King Karfan, who would be doing a service to the galaxy if he died. The bratty little snot of a prince had grown up to be a dangerously arrogant tyrant of a king. And Anakin was willing to bet that the bastard still didn't know a podracer from his own ass.
Considering their prior mission history on the planet, Anakin and Obi-Wan had been dispatched as the Jedi chosen to restore order to the rioting cities. But it was to no avail. They had endured two long weeks of fruitless negotiation, arguing with a tyrant who condoned genocide. Two long, terrible weeks before Obi-Wan had finally given the order for them to pull out.
Anakin felt the warning in the Force, an insistent tug at the back of his mind as their clone troops exchanged fire with the rebel factions and the remnants of the royal forces. Anakin ignored the feeling; he had been feeling ripples in the Force from the moment they had come back to this Sith-cursed planet.
He pushed the sensation aside, concentrating instead on deflecting blasterfire, to protect his troopers as they hurried back to the beleaguered ship.
He staggered at a flare of pain in his mind. Shock, agony, intense, overwhelming; Anakin turned in time to see Obi-Wan crumple to the ground. Their eyes met for a second, Obi-Wan's tight with pain as he fell, one hand splayed out as though to snatch at Anakin's cloak.
Everything slowed. The storm of blasterfire, the screams of the wounded and the dying, the concussion of missiles impacting around them all fell silent. A hand clutched at his shoulder, and Anakin turned slowly to see Commander Cody. The clone was yelling something; Anakin could see his lips moving, but heard no sound.
(Anakin…)
Obi-Wan's voice in his mind made Anakin whirl. A peculiar numbness suffused his body as he saw his Master struggle to rise, before collapsing again into the clinging mud.
(Ana….)
The rebels were getting closer, struggling up the incline to where Obi-Wan lay prone. Cody was dragging Anakin backwards, tugging him towards the ship, yelling something in his ear.
'Too late… let him go… too late….'
No. No. NO!
Anakin didn't know if he was screaming aloud, or if it was just the sound of his heart being torn in two. He didn't remember throwing Cody aside, didn't remember tearing back down the slope, or bringing his lightsabre into play. He barely registered fighting, didn't notice or care about the bodies he sent flying to gasp their last into the thick mud. His ears heard nothing but the soft whimper of pain from his Master as Anakin tugged Obi-Wan's limp body into his arms.
Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open for a second, silvery with pain and piercing Anakin's heart. Anakin felt the frantic pulse of his heart slamming in his ears, felt the blaster wound in Obi-Wan's lower back that had crippled his Master, and heard each ragged breath that the older Jedi took. Each one slower, fainter….
(Ana….Anakin….)
Obi-Wan's eyes drifted shut.
Time stopped.
Anakin suddenly found himself on the floor of the cruiser, holding Obi-Wan's unconscious body in his arms, rocking back and forth and sobbing like a youngling, his face buried in his Master's blood- and mud-soaked hair.
(Don't die. Please don't die. I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, I'm sorry, don't die on me…)
Anakin didn't realize he had gone into a healing-trance until a hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself with a gasp. Anakin realized that he was shivering violently, freezing even though the atmosphere of the planet was clinging and humid. He had poured too much of his life Force into Obi-Wan, synchronizing their heartbeats and their breathing, trying desperately to keep his Master alive. Wrapping his thoughts around Obi-Wan's own, cementing them together, until they were completely intertwined. Until, if Obi-Wan died, he would take Anakin with him.
Pulling back from such an intimate connection made Anakin dizzy, made his heart ache as though something important had been snatched away from him. He whimpered in protest as Barriss gently pulled Obi-Wan from his arms. He was suddenly seized with panic, as though letting Obi-Wan out of his sight for a second would mean his Master's death. Staggering to his feet, Anakin stumbled into the makeshift infirmary on the small craft, and took up vigil at his Master's side where he belonged.
That had been three days ago. Anakin's dangerous and untrained Force-healing – for which Master Luminara had ranted and yelled herself hoarse, citing him as eight kinds of a Sith-addled idiot – along with Barriss' emergency first aid, had superficially healed the wound. It had staunched the bleeding at least, well enough for the trip back to Coruscant where the Temple Healers could do a proper job on it. However, such makeshift measures meant that the angry wound would never heal cleanly. The bones in Obi-Wan's shattered spine had knit well enough, but Luminara had warned Anakin that it would always be more fragile than before. And it meant that he would carry a scar there for the rest of his life; a painful reminder to Anakin that he had failed to guard his Master's back.
Anakin carried a scar as well, one that wasn't visible to the naked eye. It was over his heart, throbbing in recrimination for his Master's injury. Anakin's mother had always told him to protect those that he loved with all his strength. He had failed. The one man that he loved and cherished above all others had fallen. And it was all his fault. He should have anticipated the retaliation as the Jedi tried to leave the planet; he should have heeded the warning in the Force instead of dismissing it out of hand.
It was another lesson in humility – a trait that Obi-Wan constantly tried to impress upon him. But this time, the lesson had come at too high a price. Qui-Gon had always told Anakin how imperative it was to pay heed to the living Force. Why hadn't he listened to that? Why had Obi-Wan been the one to bear the consequences of his Padawan's arrogance?
He should have been the one to fall. Not Obi-Wan. Never Obi-Wan.
A drop of water splashed on the back of his hand, and Anakin realized dimly that he was crying. He couldn't help it; every time he looked at Obi-Wan, so pale and weak and still in the too-large bed, it made Anakin realize what a failure he had been as a Padawan. He was supposed to protect the ones he loved, they were supposed to work as a team. They were supposed to be the team, together without fail. Forever. Because Obi-Wan had always been there for Anakin, and Anakin was supposed to always be there for Obi-Wan. That was the way it worked. That was the way it was supposed to work, at least. A proper Padawan would have waited, would have made sure that his Master was all right.
But no, Anakin had run ahead with Cody and the other clones, his long legs carrying him faster than Obi-Wan could move.
To Anakin, Obi-Wan had always seemed more than just a man, more than just a Jedi. He was so graceful, so powerful and serene that the longer he was Anakin's Master, the more perfect he seemed. As though he was more than mortal.
Anakin didn't like being reminded that his idolized Master was only human after all. It made his heart lurch sickeningly, reminding him that it was possible for Obi-Wan to be hurt… for him to die.
No. Anakin refused to let that happen. He wouldn't let Obi-Wan die the way Master Qui-Gon had. He wouldn't allow it. Not for any noble, altruistic reasons. Anakin was selfish. He didn't want Obi-Wan to die because Anakin didn't want to be left alone. Obi-Wan had been so completely devastated after Qui-Gon's death… but he had Anakin with him. And although that hadn't been nearly enough to compensate for his Master's loss, at least Obi-Wan had had someone to care about him.
Obi-Wan was the only one who cared about Anakin. So… if Obi-Wan died… then Anakin would be left all alone. Mace would have him kicked out of the Order, because no one else would want to take on such a headstrong Padawan.
"I'm sorry," Anakin whispered quietly, scrubbing away the tears with the back of his hand, clenching the other against the white sheets of the bed to stop its trembling. Sorry. It was such a meaningless word, and far too late to say it. Sorry. Sorry wouldn't erase the scar from Obi-Wan's back, it wouldn't heal his spine properly or keep him from the intensive physiotherapy that he was going to require in order to fully recover.
Saying sorry wouldn't make him forgive Anakin. Nothing he could do would make Obi-Wan forgive him for this failure. He would be set aside, would be replaced or sent back to Tatooine….
Anakin shook his head, dismissing that last thought. Rationally, he knew that Obi-Wan wouldn't send him away, not after so many years together. The tension and anguish that had festered between them after Qui-Gon's death had eased, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie. They were like father and son, like brothers….
Well, Anakin knew that Obi-Wan thought about their relationship in those terms at least. And he was content to let the older Jedi Knight think that way, no matter what Anakin's personal feelings were. He had kept them hidden for almost three years now, after all.
With one more soft caress to the errant strands auburn hair, Anakin straightened up and gently tugged a blanket up over Obi-Wan's sleeping form. His Master had a bad habit of kicking the things off when asleep, letting the blankets get all twisted up at the foot of the bed. Anakin teased him mercilessly about it, this quirk that was so at odds with Obi-Wan's otherwise serene and unflappable demeanour.
Anakin had been terrified when he had gone to visit Obi-Wan in the Healer's ward, not just because his Master looked frighteningly pale, with dark purple bruises framing his closed eyes, but because he was so still. Obi-Wan had been lying on his back – securely bandaged against further injury – his hands lightly resting on top of the undisturbed bedclothes. The Obi-Wan that Anakin knew always curled up on his side in a tight ball, just begging for someone to spoon up behind him….
Anakin cut that train of thought off quickly; busying himself with smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in the blanket lovingly spread over his Master's sleeping form. But he couldn't deny himself a gentle kiss pressed against Obi-Wan's temple, lips gently caressing porcelain skin, breathing deeply to inhale the pleasantly masculine scent of his Master's hair.
It was a stolen kiss, the only type he was ever likely to get from Obi-Wan. He had seen how Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon had been together, had felt their love burning through the Force. He had felt first-hand the after-effects of Qui-Gon's death, and saw the way that Obi-Wan still looked unbearably sad whenever the older Jedi's name was mentioned. The holograph that Anakin had given Obi-Wan as a Solstice present three years ago was carried with the Jedi Knight wherever they went. When tired or frustrated, Obi-Wan would dig it out of his kitbag and stare at it for a long time in silence, as though remembering.
It happened more and more frequently with the onset of the Solstice Night – that had been Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's holiday, after all. Even though Obi-Wan would put on a smiling face for the night's festivities, Anakin could see through the façade to his Master's melancholy. He missed Qui-Gon still, he always would. And Anakin knew that Obi-Wan would spend the night curled up in the bed he had once shared with the older Jedi Master, holding the holograph close to his heart.
At first Anakin had been pleased that his Master loved the gift he had found so much. But as time went on, Anakin's heart had begun to constrict painfully every time Obi-Wan glanced reflectively at the picture, an inscrutable expression marring his passive features. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had shared something special, something Anakin longed for desperately but knew he would never find. He loved Obi-Wan Kenobi, deeply, passionately, intensely, even though he knew that his Master's true love had died years ago.
He knew better than to hope that Obi-Wan would ever look at him in that way.
These kisses, taken without permission while Obi-Wan slept, would suffice. They would have to – they were all Anakin had. Even if the illicit moments did nothing more than torment him with the taste of everything that he could never have, they were still precious. He could close his eyes for a moment, feeling the silken touch of Obi-Wan's skin, breathing in his enticing scent and he could pretend for an instant that Obi-Wan loved him back. That the yearning gaze he reserved for pictures of Qui-Gon was for Anakin instead – full of desire and need. Even if those kisses, those imaginings weren't given willingly, it was still the best Solstice present Anakin could hope for. Someday, he would work up the courage to ask Obi-Wan for a real kiss. Until then, this would be enough.
It would have to be enough. Anakin knew he was too young, too immature, and too impulsive for Obi-Wan to ever look at Anakin with desire. He was too not-Qui-Gon-Jinn. No, Obi-Wan would only ever see him as a little boy, as a grudgingly-accepted Padawan. Nothing more.
One day… Anakin would ask his Master for a kiss, even though he knew what the answer would be already. Someday, he would be brave enough for that.
Reluctantly tearing himself away, Anakin slowly rose once more from the bed. Behind him, Obi-Wan muttered a sleepy protest, curling forward farther into the warm depression Anakin left behind. Smiling, Anakin turned to the closet to get another blanket for his Master – Luminara had left him strict instructions to make sure Obi-Wan was kept warm. It was a hard thing to do when the man was intent on kicking away every blanket. Stretching up slightly on his toes, Anakin tugged down a deep green blanket from the top shelf of the closet.
The movement dislodged something else from the top shelf – an envelope the colour of pinear trees – green and blue and silver all mixed together. Automatically, Anakin snatched it out of the air before it could flutter to the ground, frowning slightly at the shelf from whence it had fallen. It was rare that they used the blankets stored in there – generally only if the heating in the Temple ceased functioning, which was almost never. So what….?
Turning the envelope over, Anakin saw his own name, inscribed in black ink and flowing in Obi-Wan's perfect calligraphy. It was his Solstice present, apparently. Anakin grinned, making a mental note to always check this closet when searching for his presents.
Curbing his enthusiasm with some difficulty, Anakin gripped the envelope lightly in his teeth. That freed his hands to lightly spread the thick green blanket over his sleeping Master. But then unable to wait any longer, Anakin sat down carefully on the other side of the bed to tear the green paper open.
Inside there was a note, along with another folded piece of paper. Frowning in confusion, Anakin gently slid the note from its verdant prison and began to read. Again, it was written in Obi-Wan's precise and elegant hand, and Anakin knew that he would probably end up keeping this small message, like he had all the others, in a small box under his bed. Not the most imaginative of hiding spaces, but Anakin trusted Obi-Wan not to invade his privacy.
Anakin;
It gets harder and harder for me to decide what to get for you on Solstice Night as you get older. Long gone are the days when I could just bring you home a broken droid to see your face light up in delight, and I know better than to think you would want me to accompany you to a bar any longer. I also have realized too late that it isn't wise to just give you credits like last year – I know that you got a tattoo Anakin, but I don't want to know what or where it is; I have enough grey hairs as it is.
Anakin smirked slightly at that, feeling a faint blush tinge his cheeks. He hadn't known that Obi-Wan knew about his Solstice present to himself, but in hindsight, he really should have figured it out. His Master always had been perceptive. Anakin was just grateful that he hadn't demanded to see what it was – it would have been painfully awkward to explain why he had chosen to get an ornate OB1 written low on his left hip, after all…. Subconsciously pressing his hand to the tattoo, Anakin smiled to himself and continued to read:
You have been a wonderful apprentice Anakin, proving to me more and more every day that you will far surpass me as a Jedi Knight. I know that our missions have not been easy – even more difficult for you, my perfect Padawan, to put up with a less-than-perfect Master. The best present I could think of for you as a result was some time away from me, which I am sure will thrill you to no end.
Anakin's heart lurched strangely at the words, a combination of pride and pain. Pride that Obi-Wan thought he was the perfect Padawan, even in face of all of Anakin's obvious shortcomings. And pain because he knew that his Master's view of him, so drastically mistaken, couldn't possibly endure. Not when Anakin had failed so badly on this last mission. Not when that failure had lead to Obi-Wan being wounded.
Anakin suppressed a quietly desperate laugh, pressing one hand over his eyes. Obi-Wan thought that Anakin would be glad to leave his Master behind? No, it was Obi-Wan who would be happy to get away from Anakin, not the other way around.
Hugging his free arm tightly across his chest and stealing a glance at Obi-Wan, Anakin sighed softly and read to the end of the letter.
I hope you enjoy your vacation Anakin, even if you're only a spectator this time rather than a participant.
Obi-Wan.
Anakin raised one eyebrow, a small smile beginning to tug at his lips. Well that was cryptic, in true Obi-Wan Kenobi form. Impatient now, Anakin tugged the other folded piece of paper from the envelope, starting in surprise when two smaller pieces tumbled from inside the folds onto his lap. Picking up the pieces, Anakin's eyes widened in shock as he scanned the tickets.
No way. No way in Sith hell had Obi-Wan….
Quickly opening the folded paper with trembling fingers, Anakin scanned the lines swiftly, his heart pounding. Anakin Skywalker… Padawan to Knight Kenobi, etc, etc…blah blah blah… granted Temple leave from the 26th day of Twelfth Month until the 3rd day of First Month….
Fucking Sith!
Anakin let the paper fall from his nerveless fingers, pushing one shaking hand through his hair as he laughed in shock and amazement and utter delight. He knew that he was grinning like an inebriated nexu, and was momentarily glad that Obi-Wan was still asleep so that he couldn't see his Padawan's ridiculously gleeful expression.
For the Solstice, Anakin had intended to drag Obi-Wan to one of Coruscant's animal shelters so they could adopt a kitten or something. Anakin knew that Obi-Wan loved felines – after all, the Jedi Knight was almost feline himself in his elegant grace and regal bearing – while Anakin hated the creatures. It was to be his present to Obi-Wan, a truce on the frequently-debated subject.
But Obi-Wan….Obi-Wan had bought him two tickets to the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine. The most prestigious, most attended, and most publicized pod-racing event in the entire galaxy. The race that Anakin had won eight years ago when he had been no more than a child. The tickets were notoriously hard to obtain without having some inroads with the Hutts who ran the event. And even should one be able to find tickets for sale, they would cost far more than a Knight's meagre stipend for an entire Twelvemonth cycle. But on top of that, another paper attached to the leave papers indicated that Anakin's entire voyage to and from Tatooine was already paid for.
How in the Force had Obi-Wan been able to afford all of this? Not to mention the amount of arguing he must have been obliged to do to get Mace to let Anakin out of the Temple for that long.
There was more writing on the back of the leave papers. Anakin turned it over and smiled tremulously at the simple message: Say hello to your mother for me, along with a scrawled comlink number.
That's who the second ticket was for.
Anakin felt his heart pound in his ears, tears pricking his eyes as he clutched the leave papers tightly against his chest. Mom. He would be able to see her again. Sith hell, had it already been eight years? He missed her still, he always would. And Obi-Wan had known that, had seen it and saved his paltry few credits to give his Padawan the best Solstice present possible….
A cold lump formed in Anakin's stomach as he slowly lowered the papers. The best Solstice present possible. Of course, it was a present for the 25th day of Twelfth Month. Ideally, Anakin would have left the day after the Solstice, having spent the day with his Master.
But now….
Anakin twisted on the bed to stare at Obi-Wan's prone body, looking small and crumpled under the mountains of blankets that covered his still form.
And he knew that it wasn't possible.
No matter how much he missed his mother, Obi-Wan had been his family and his friend for the past eight years. And Obi-Wan needed him, just as much as Anakin needed Obi-Wan. There was no way he could leave Obi-Wan here like this, alone and wounded, on the Solstice.
What had Qui-Gon told Anakin about the holiday? 'The point of the Solstice is being together, Anakin… spending time with loved ones.' There was no one in the entire galaxy that Anakin loved more than Obi-Wan Kenobi. And in the end, it wasn't that hard of a choice to make.
Regretfully folding the tickets and travel papers back into the green envelope, Anakin rose to place it back on the closet shelf. He would never abandon his Master; he loved Obi-Wan too much for that. Fighting back the tears in his eyes, Anakin leaned over the quietly sleeping figure and pressed another trembling kiss on Obi-Wan's cheek.
He wouldn't leave Obi-Wan's side. Not for an instant, not until his Master was fully recovered. No matter how long it took.
"Happy Solstice, Master," Anakin whispered softly, brushing his fingers through Obi-Wan's auburn hair lovingly. He would need to contact his mother on the comlink, from the number Obi-Wan had provided. No doubt his Master had already warned her that Anakin was coming… Sith, but he hated to let her down. Anakin had always hated to see her upset. He wouldn't do it for many people. Sith, he wouldn't do it for anyone aside from Obi-Wan. Anakin didn't even need to consider it; there was no question in his mind that he had made the right decision.
Anakin traced his fingers along the Jedi Knight's jaw, feeling his heart pulse painfully with love and sadness and longing. He would do anything for Obi-Wan.
Rising from the bed, reluctant to break even that tenuous contact with his Master, Anakin paused in the doorway. With a small, tight smile, he reached up to touch the branch of pinear that he had hung there (pilfered from the enormous tree in the Temple's Entrance Hall). The needles shone a faint bluey-green, but the muted sunlight coming in through the window made them appear almost grey.
Anakin smiled faintly. It was just like the colour of Obi-Wan's eyes. Glancing back at his silent Master, still curled up in sleep, Anakin quietly left the room.
As ever, reviews are shamelessly begged for. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
XtP
