Author: TemporaryUniverse
WC: 4,261 (23,154 Total)

TW: hallucinations, violence

Sidious returned an eternity later. The cell door opened and Obi-Wan winced at the brightness, tears welling in his eyes, but didn't bother to move otherwise. He hadn't moved, not since Sidious left, and his body ached from his inaction, but he barely noticed. He'd had worse pain.

"Have we finally broken you, Obi-Wan?"

"Please, Master. Please, take it off," he rasped, hardly more than a whisper.

Two troopers hauled him to his knees and he gasped at the rush of nauseating hot and cold through his body, his head spinning.

Sidious pulled the mask off. Obi-Wan felt the Force seep back into him, filling up the void in his chest. He hung there limply, breathing it in. He'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to not be empty.

"Thank you, Master." With the Force returned to him, he could sense the Sith's cold satisfaction and he shivered.

"Take him to the medics," Sidious ordered the troopers. "I want him ready in one week."

Heady relief washed over Obi-Wan. He didn't care at all that the clones practically dragged him to the med center as he tried to figure out how to get his legs to work again.

They took his braces off so they could throw him in the bacta tank, and when he awoke from sedation, he found that two days had passed. Then, 2-1B-95 gave him a bottle of the disgusting nutrient liquid and a slice of bread that had to be the best thing he ever tasted. He savored every bite, eating slowly so he wouldn't throw it up.

The next time 2-1B-95 came in, accompanied by Cody, they helped him dress and reattach his cybernetics. His first steps were wobbly, his balance all off and his control jerky after weeks of little activity. After a few laps around the room, though, he felt steadier. His muscles were wasted, but his natural legs were already useless, it didn't matter to his prostheses.

Anakin watched from the corner, and Obi-Wan did his best to ignore the illusion. At least he wasn't saying anything.

"2-1B-95?"

"Yes, Patient Obi-Wan?" The droid responded.

"How long was…" His voice rasped, scraping at his throat like sand, and he cleared it. "How long was I—has it been?"

"I last saw you two months, one week, and three days ago."

So Sidious had kept to the promised two months. For some reason it had felt like so much longer.

Obi-Wan sat back down on the bed, gripping the edge tightly.

Closing his eyes, he scanned his body with the Force but found no indication of a subdermal device like a tracker. Either it was embedded in his prostheses where it was masked by metal and wire, or Sidious had been lying. He wasn't sure which was more likely.

But until he could know for certain, escape would be impossible.

2-1B-95 released him with a strict dietary and physical therapy plan soon after. It would take him a while to recover fully.

Cody and the rest of his guards escorted him back to his quarters.

His rooms were as he'd left them, not even a thin layer of dust to show how long he'd been gone. The cleaning droids had been by, then. Obi-Wan stood there for a moment, feeling terribly out of place in the quarters he'd lived in for the majority of his life. It felt wrong to even step foot in them, they belonged to someone more whole than he was.

Something caught his eye and he moved towards the windowsill, a knot twisting in his gut. The alparas sat there, the leaves all fallen off, ringing the plant in fragile, brown husks. The stems were dry and brittle, all the way down to the roots. When he reached out in the Force, the vibrant presence was gone, not even a hint of life remaining.

The alparas flower was dead.

Obi-Wan bowed his head. To think that the plant had survived as long as it had, he'd thought that perhaps it was too stubborn to die. It had survived without care for longer, right after the Purge, when Obi-Wan was learning to walk again. It should have been fine for two months.

Apparently not.

Just one more thing he'd lost.

He sat down against the wall, thunking his head back and staring off into nothing. There was a numb feeling settling over him, but he had no tears.

It was just a plant. He shouldn't be grieving a plant.

"Master?" He asked quietly. And then flinched, because he'd tarnished that title, used it for someone who wasn't his Master. Someone who didn't deserve it.

"I'm here." Qui-Gon knelt beside him, and he looked like he did before the mask, translucent and glowing blue.

And there were the tears. His breath hiccupped as they trailed down his cheeks. He was crying for more than the alparas flower that had never gotten a chance to bloom. He was crying for the Jedi, and his Master, and himself. All the pain that he had endured and all the cracks in his soul that were starting to show. He was so tired. Tired of all of it. Tired of not being strong enough to resist the Dark Side and Sidious.

"I don't know what to do, Qui-Gon," he choked out.

"Let it go, Obi-Wan."

"I can't. There's too much. He's going to win." He was going to break his promise to Qui-Gon again.

"If you believe he will win, then you can only lose," Qui-Gon said. "You must let go. Release it to the Force."

"There is no death." His voice was hoarse, broken just like him. Qui-Gon's presence pressed against him, lending him support, wrapping him in the Light, and it hurt, but he leaned into it anyway.

"Trust in the Force."

"I'm scared," he confessed shamefully, like a youngling after a nightmare.

"The Light is with you, Padawan. You need only to see it," Qui-Gon replied. There was no judgment in his Master's tone, only warmth and sorrow.

"How? Everything feels so dark." He turned pleading eyes on his Master, needing something, anything that would lessen the pain.

Qui-Gon was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking.

"Do you remember the planet with no moon?" There were plenty of planets without moons, but only one held significance to him and his Master.

"Erebus? Why?" They had been there for a treaty negotiation and had somehow ended up hiking for days in the wilderness after their ship malfunctioned and crashed a hundred kilometers from the nearest city.

"Do remember how dark it got at night, and how when it was cloudy you couldn't see your hand in front of your face? You were complaining about it."

"I wouldn't say complaining..." He protested, more out of habit than anything else.

"And do you remember what we saw?"

Obi-Wan blinked, his brow furrowing as he concentrated.

"The glowbugs?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon looked at him, his eyes fond. "You watched them for hours." It had been beautiful. Thousands of tiny, little specks of light darting about over the lake, the water glowing with the reflections. "Remember that, Obi-Wan. There is always light, even in the blackest of nights. You just have to know where to look."

Obi-Wan wiped his face with his sleeve so that he wouldn't have to answer. Qui-Gon's words made him feel a bit less lost, gave him hope, and hope hurt more than despair. As long as he had hope, he knew he would not fall to Sidious, but that only meant he would have to endure more pain.

But if there was one thing Obi-wan was good at, it was enduring pain.

"Obi-Wan, if it helps, know that I am always with you, even when you cannot see me, I will be there." Obi-Wan glanced at him, and then away.

"The mask…" The Qui-Gon in the cell hadn't been Qui-Gon, he was more certain of that now, because this Qui-Gon was wise and compassionate, how Obi-Wan remembered him rather than the malicious spirit his tortured mind had dreamed up.

"It cut you off from me, but I did not leave you." That meant he knew what Obi-Wan had done. He had seen him fall apart and beg.

"I didn't—" His fist clenched on his knee, and he ground his molars. "Ma—Qui—Master." He wasn't going to let Sidious take this from him.

"I know, Padawan," Qui-Gon said kindly, able to read him as ever. "And it's alright. It's just a title."

"It's not. It's—" Master meant respect. It meant teacher, protector, guide. It was everything Qui-Gon was and Sidious wasn't.

"It must be. It has to just be a title or Sidious will leverage it against you. It can't mean anything when you call him Master."

"But then it means nothing when I call you that," Obi-Wan said, once more through tears.

"We don't need a word to know what we are to each other, Obi-Wan. I don't need you to call me Master to know how important you are to me. Do you understand?" Qui-Gon shifted to look him in the eye, his expression solemn. Obi-Wan stared back, the words sinking in slowly.

He sighed.

"Yes." Searching for acceptance, he closed his eyes. He didn't know that he found it, the guilt still sat with him, but it was not as heavy of a burden.

He may be forced to call Sidious, Master, but it would come with none of the loyalty or respect he afforded Qui-Gon.

It was miserable, waiting for the end of the week Sidious had given him to recover, but at last the day came.

Cody led him back to the torture room and he mentally steeled himself for the pain in his future, running fingers through his freshly trimmed beard and smoothing the sleeves of his black uniform.

"Kneel," Sidious said when he entered. Obi-Wan grimaced but did as ordered.

Sidious pulled something from his robes, something Obi-Wan would recognize anywhere. Obi-Wan's lightsaber. The Sith levitated it, slowly spinning it with the Force. Then he started dismantling it, the pieces hanging in the air, revolving like a system of oddly shaped planets. When the kyber crystal was exposed, he plucked it out and then reassembled the saber casing, tucking it back into his robes. The crystal, he floated over to Obi-Wan, who hesitantly took it.

His kyber chimed a welcoming, slightly sorrowful melody. He hadn't picked up his saber since Mustafar, since he had used it to…

He'd thought it lost.

"Do you know why a Sith's lightsaber is red?" Obi-Wan looked up from the crystal in his hands.

"The kyber inside it is corrupted," he answered.

"And do you know how it becomes corrupted?"

He shook his head.

"Pain. Fear. Anger. Hatred. You make the crystal hurt, make it bleed, and bend it to your will. A kyber crystal does not want to be used by the Sith, so you must compel it."

Obi-Wan had a bad feeling.

"And this is relevant how?"

"One of the first things a Sith apprentice does is learn how to bleed a kyber."

Obi-Wan's bad feeling solidified into horror. He glanced down at his crystal and felt sick, curling his fingers over it as though he could protect it. He hadn't had this one for terribly long. After Dooku had stolen his lightsaber on Geonosis, he needed a new one and with no time for a trip to Ilum, he had gone to the Temple kyber reserve. This one had called to him. It had a history, its previous owner having passed into the Force decades ago, but it had longed to be wielded once again. He felt it every time he picked it up and found comfort in the connection to a Jedi long gone. But it had carried him through the war, protected him, comforted him, and Sidious wanted him to betray it.

"I won't do it," he said.

"Bleed the kyber and your lightsaber will be returned to you. You will need it to continue your training," Sidious said. As much as Obi-Wan longed to have his saber back, the price was too high.

"And if I refuse?"

"CC-2224, come here."

Obi-Wan tensed, turning his head to watch Cody walk towards them. He jerked forward as Sidious pulled out his saber and held the blade at Cody's throat.

"No, wait—"

"Do you refuse?"

He clenched his jaw, staring the Sith down, and the red blade drifted closer to Cody's neck, the trooper letting out a grunt as it burned him. Obi-Wan looked down at the floor. If there was a way out of this, he couldn't see it.

He hated how Sidious seemed to know exactly where his limits were. How far he could be pushed before he bent. How far before he broke. The Sith knew each of his weak points and how to press them to make Obi-Wan do whatever he wanted.

"No, Master," he gritted out. The lightsaber vanished.

"I shall return tomorrow to inspect your progress." He turned and left in a swish of black robes. Cody left a few seconds later, likely to go stand outside the door as Obi-Wan's guard.

Obi-Wan looked down at the softly glowing crystal in his hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to it and heard it pulse mournfully, like it knew what was coming.

He took a deep breath, clutching the kyber tightly, and opened himself to the Force. The Darkness curled around him and he shuddered. He focused on the song of his crystal, summoning up his pain, the pain he felt when the Jedi were murdered, the pain of killing Anakin, the pain of the months since then where his whole self had slowly been eroded by the manipulations of the Sith. He drew it all in, preparing himself. His kyber's song grew stronger, responding to him, trying to comfort him and he hesitated. Hesitated, and then let it all go.

"I can't." He bowed his head to his fist with a sob. "Force."

He sat back up, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

"Master Qui-Gon?" He asked to the air. "Master, please, I need you."

"Now you know why the Jedi guard against attachment, Padawan. That always was your weakness."

He glanced over at the man leaning against the wall.

"Leave me alone," he said.

"You asked for me."

Obi-Wan glared.

"I asked for Qui-Gon. You are not him."

"I'm not, am I? Are you certain?" The illusion tilted his head, amusement seeping out of him. The move was so like Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan had to forcefully remind himself that it wasn't real.

"I can tell the difference."

"Can you?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer. He hated his hallucinations of Qui-Gon. They always included the worst parts of his Master and none of the best and they always made him doubt. He ran a thumb over the smooth, faceted surface of his kyber.

"Is protecting the man who betrayed you really worth Falling?"

"He didn't betray me. Sidious forced him to, somehow, but I know he's still in there. Cody, Padmé, and the twins are all I have left. If I lose them I have nothing."

"If you're not careful, you will fall into the same trap Anakin did. Protecting the ones you love at the expense of everything else."

He knew that. He knew he was dangerously close to possessiveness, but wasn't a Jedi supposed to prevent the loss of life where they could? What was Obi-Wan's kyber, his soul, worth compared to an innocent's life? Where was he supposed to draw the line?

"Corrupting my kyber to save Cody puts me one step closer to the Dark Side. But letting Cody die… I recognize my attachment to him, but I don't know that I can let it go. If Cody dies it will push me closer to Falling as well." He laughed bitterly. "I literally can't win."

"Sidious plays his game well." Game. As if months of torture was the equivalent of a round of shah-tezh.

"Yes," he agreed.

"What will you do?"

"The smaller step." He settled once again, closing his eyes. With the crystal in his hand, he dragged his memories back to the surface. Pain. Fear. Anger. Hatred. Emotions that defined the recent months of his life. And then he poured them into the kyber. It screamed, loud and discordant in the Force, and he flinched but didn't stop.

With the red saber in his hand, he slashed down another rebel, lifting a second with the Force and snapping their neck. He stalked down the corridor, murdering everyone he saw, slicing through bodies without mercy, without remorse. People were screaming. He passed a window and saw his own face reflected, eyes a fiery yellow. Civilians scattered before him. A Jedi stood in front of him, fear and betrayal written across their face, and he cut them down.

There was nothing but Darkness left in his heart, nothing but power and death running through his veins.

Obi-Wan jolted out of the vision to find tears streaming down his cheeks. There was a sharp throbbing in his hand, the crystal had cut into his palm, his blood coating the kyber. Its screaming had quieted, but he could still feel its pain. Guilt gripped him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I can't lose him."

He closed his eyes again, and concentrated.

It took him a full day of the most agonizing meditation he had ever endured before he looked down at his kyber and found it glowing a bloody crimson. He let it tumble from his grasp, heard the clink as it hit the floor.

He stared at it, feeling utterly numb. It felt like all of his emotions had gone into his crystal, leaving nothing inside him.

Sometime later, the door opened. He didn't bother to look up. Footsteps approached and stopped in front of him.

"You continue to surprise me, Obi-Wan," Sidious said thoughtfully. "You choose a clone over your kyber. Is that bond not sacred to the Jedi? How many times did you tell Anakin that a Jedi's lightsaber is their life? Not only that but you willingly used the Dark Side. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

Obi-Wan's throat tightened and his eyes burned. He clenched his hands in his lap, feeling the sting of the wound the kyber had given him.

His lightsaber clattered to the ground at his knees, rolling to a stop just beyond his corrupted kyber.

"Put it in."

His eyes flicked up at Sidious, then back to the saber. He reached out and called the hilt to his hand, hesitating before he sunk into the Force and began to dismantle it. He picked up the screaming, red crystal and set it into its place, then slid all the components back together, the crystal at the heart.

"Get up."

He stood.

The lightsaber didn't feel any different when he held it, the grip and weight fitting perfectly in his hand, every notch and groove familiar against his palm.

Sidious pulled out his own saber and it ignited with a threatening hiss, casting a sickly red glow over the room.

"If you defeat me, you earn your freedom."

Obi-Wan appraised him, searching for the lie.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," Sidious said, but his smile said something else.

"If I lose?" He asked.

"You will be punished."

He knew he wasn't going to win. Sidious was powerful and skilled enough to defeat even Master Yoda, and Obi-Wan hadn't picked up a saber in seven months, the most recent two of which he had barely been mobile at all. He didn't stand a chance. But he knew he would fight anyway, even with unknown punishment hanging over his head.

His blade sprang to life with a low hum, and he winced at the color and the way his kyber screamed in his mind. It made the bile rise in his throat. He was still attuned to it, it carried his pain and fear, the bits of his soul that he'd poured into it even before the bleeding. They were intrinsically connected, bonded by the Force. The kyber was his, and yet, he could tell it didn't want to be wielded by him. Not anymore. He would have to force it, though the very thought of it made him feel ill.

He twirled the saber, getting accustomed with it again, and slid into a guard stance.

Sidious lunged and the fight began, Obi-Wan blocked the first blow, then the second.

But he hadn't sparred since Mustafar, much less since his paralysis. He was entirely out of practice and working with a body that lacked the muscle memory he was used to and had a far more limited range of motion due to his prostheses. He felt as clumsy as an Initiate first learning Shii-Cho, clumsier even.

He was on the floor in seconds, a long slash singed through the front of his uniform.

"Pathetic," Sidious sneered. "Get up."

He dragged himself to his feet and called his saber back to his hand. Sidious barely gave him a chance to take his stance before he struck.

Obi-Wan survived a second longer.

"Get up."

He got up.

He got knocked back down again.

"Get up."

Again.

"Get up."

He got up, over and over, the scorch marks accumulating on his tunic, until he hit the floor and stayed there. His chest heaved, his vision gray around the edges as he struggled to take in oxygen.

"Get up."

He shook his head faintly and then screamed as the lightning struck, coursing through his body without mercy.

It ended, leaving him trembling, his heart pounding against his ribs in a too fast rhythm.

"Get up, Apprentice."

He got up.

This time, Sidious' first blow knocked the saber out of his hands, and the second scored a long burn across his cheek. He somehow stayed standing, grateful that his cybernetics didn't permit the same weakness as muscles would, otherwise they would be shaking under him.

"Return him to his room." The expression on Sidious' face was unbearably smug as he called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to himself. It took a minute for Obi-Wan to get his legs to work again, but he followed Cody out. Defeat pressed down on him, making his every step heavy.

Even knowing he would fail didn't lessen the sting of it. He'd barely put up a fight at all, the skills he used to be so reliant upon gone from him, leaving him helpless. He hadn't realized how proud of his lightsaber mastery he had been until it was taken away.

After that, Sidious sparred with him every other day, the days in between reserved for his punishment. It wasn't too different from the torture he had already suffered, the whips and knives and the table. Obi-Wan wondered why the Sith hadn't come up with something new.

Not that he had to, because the thing was… it was working. His pain and fear simmered underneath the surface no matter how hard Obi-Wan tried to push them away. Not quite anger and hatred yet, but primed for it, ready to flare at the right provocation.

"It's inevitable, Obi-Wan," Anakin said as he sat on his meditation mat, trying in vain to center himself. "It would be easier for you to give in now. You could have the strength to defeat him, to defeat all your enemies. No one would ever hurt you or the ones you love again."

"I will not become you, Anakin," he replied. "I will not become a monster."

He could never do the things that his Padawan had done. He would not slaughter innocents. Children. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

"I am what you made me, Master." His voice was practically a growl.

His eyes flicked to the apparition, then away just as quickly. Anakin was determined not to be ignored, though. He stood right in front of Obi-Wan.

"Can't you feel it? The Dark Side already has a hold on you." He laughed. "How far the perfect Jedi has Fallen."

"I was never a perfect Jedi." He'd tried. Force, he had tried so hard to be perfect and had always fallen short. As a Padawan. As a Knight. As a Master. He'd never been good enough. Too emotional. Too attached. Too weak.

It was no wonder he was failing now, when he had spent his entire life failing at one thing after another.

"No, you're just a failure," Anakin echoed his thoughts. "Qui-Gon. Ahsoka. Satine. Padmé. Me. We are the victims of your mistakes."

"I know," he gasped. His chest was too tight. He couldn't get enough air. "I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Anakin scoffed.

"Your apology means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me. Not anymore."

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" He moaned.

"You're the one who can't let me go, Obi-Wan."

He didn't know what to say to that. Anakin was right. His guilt haunted his every step, and though he could push it aside, he could never truly release it, or even begin to accept it like he should.

How did one accept that the child they had raised had turned into a murderer, had betrayed everything they taught them, and done such unspeakable things? How did one accept that they had then killed that child without hesitation, without mercy?

Obi-Wan had failed Anakin, and then he had murdered him.

He couldn't forgive himself for either of those crimes.

A.N. Catch me throwing a line from the show in there, lol.

Also, Obi-Wan's and Qui-Gon's talk about Erebus is one of if not my favorite scene I wrote in this fic.

Sorry about the plant.

Thanks for reading!