Chapter 2 – Disaster

Author's Note: In which things go either very right or very wrong, depending on your point of view. :')

To thephantompanther: You did say you didn't want things to be easy! ;)

~ Amina Gila

Anakin watches with fascination as the necromancer finishes laying out a number of items in the center of a circle she drew in the sand. He can feel the power slowly growing as the dark magic comes together. While she explained the basics – she's using certain objects which have been imbued with the Dark Side to draw together the energy in a certain way – Anakin still feels rather lost. All of this is totally new to him.

He can't quiet the niggling feeling of guilt deep in his chest, either. He shouldn't have lost his temper like that on his master or snuck off. But what choice did he have? Staying would only have resulted in even more strife between them. Better that he comes back after his mother is alive again instead of waiting and wondering what might have happened if he'd acted faster – because he knows that Obi-Wan would never let him do this.

The necromancer sits on one side of the circle, gesturing for Anakin to sit opposite her. A small bowl rests in the center, filled with a smoldering herb that is meant to aid in the ritual. Now that they're here, now that it's begun, nothing and no one can stop it. "Do you have something of hers?" she asks.

Anakin nods mutely, withdrawing a lock of his mother's hair from his robes and tossing it into the bowl. He had known from the start that he would need something which is physically tied to her to make this possible. And so, he had taken a lock of her hair. He carried it with him, never putting it down or taking it out, until now.

"Let the magic flow through you," she instructs, lifting her hands, a weird greenish mist beginning to rise from the bowl as the hair burns, "And follow my lead."

Anakin does. He does, even if he hates the feel of the Dark Side flowing through him so freely, cold and slippery and wrong. He reminds himself that stopping would mean giving up on his mother. She sacrificed everything for him, and this is such a small thing to give for her, in turn. The necromancer begins a chant, uttering the strange, foreign words slowly enough for him to repeat after her, each one increasing the power which flows through them. Anakin can feel it, emanating from deep within the planet's core, rushing up to obey their every command. It's unsettling, to say the least.

She already explained to him what he has to do when he feels the gateway between the living and dead, and he's prepared. Soon, very soon, he will see his mother again, even if she's only in the spirit. Then, he can bring her back with him. Everything will be alright again.

That's when he feels the presence, a distant part of his mind crying out with panic as he senses Obi-Wan's approach. No. It's too soon. How did he get here so fast? It doesn't matter anyways. It's far too late to stop the ritual. The necromancer warned him about it, cautioning him against trying to end it suddenly, lest the power backlash and destroy everything. The balance between life and death isn't something to play with. It's something he – and every necromancer – must approach with utmost caution.

"Anakin!" he hears Obi-Wan yell his name, horror and disbelief in his voice, but he doesn't let go of the threads of power coiling between his fingers. He can't stop now. It's far too late.

Anakin repeats the final word, the power coalescing around him. It feels like he's being caught in the center of a storm, and if he reaches out far enough, he'll find what he seeks. Just a little farther now. In a moment, he'll find what he's seeking. In a moment –

"No, stay back!" orders the necromancer, and Anakin's eyes fly open as he reflexively tightens his grip on the Force, willing it to remain where it is. He's sacrificed far too much to stop now. Obi-Wan is closer than he realized, far closer, and he –

The moment the edge of the circle is disturbed, the bubble of power inside bursts. The Dark Side is ripped from Anakin's grasp, exploding outwards. He's thrown backwards from the force of the explosion, slamming hard into the stone behind him as he gasps for breath. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He lays there for a moment, stunned, before finally pushing himself upright. Everything is in shambles, and it literally looks like a whirlwind went through. His fighter, which was only a short distance away, has now been smashed; it's entirely irreparable. The necromancer is… dead on the other side of the circle, a small cut along her temple oozing blood. The backlash must have killed her; it's a miracle it didn't kill him.

And Obi-Wan – Anakin's stomach drops, and he scrambles across the sand to his master's side. He took the brunt of the Force wave, and he was far too close to the fighter when it was destroyed. He's lying on the ground, blood slowly pooling beneath his body from where a large piece of durasteel has lodged itself in his side. It's too deeply in for Anakin to remove it, and they're in the middle of nowhere. There isn't anyone around who can help them.

More than anything, Anakin wishes that he hadn't come here. He can't – he can't lose Obi-Wan. He can't lose his master. Obi-Wan can't die like this; he can't die as a result of Anakin's mistakes. "Master," he chokes out desperately, fingers skimming over Obi-Wan's body, checking for any other injuries through the Force. He has two broken ribs as well. Anakin has never felt sicker in his life. This is his fault. If he hadn't come here, explicitly against Obi-Wan's order, this would never have happened.

"'N'kin," Obi-Wan mumbles, eyes opening. His face is pale, and it's obvious that he's in extreme pain. He shifts, a cry of agony escaping him as the durasteel moves.

Anakin flinches, squeezing Obi-Wan's arm. "Please don't move," he begs. "Don't – just – just stay there. I can…" He can what? There is no one who can help them. They don't need bandages; they need a med center now, and even if, by some miracle, Anakin managed to move Obi-Wan to the shuttle he arrived in, he doubts he could get him to the nearest med center safely.

"Nothing… you can… do," Obi-Wan whispers, the strength of his Force signature beginning to wane as he grows weaker.

Anakin has never hated himself more than he does in this moment. He can't fix anything; he can only destroy. Nothing he does is ever enough, and why didn't he listen to Obi-Wan? "I'm sorry, Master. I'm sorry. I – I should have… I should have listened to you." Tears flood his eyes as helplessness overwhelms him. He lets his tears fall, unable to stop them even if he tried. His entire world is falling apart around him, and he doesn't know how to prevent it.

Obi-Wan reaches over, taking Anakin's hand – his right one – and squeezing it lightly, even though it undoubtedly hurts him to do so. "It's okay." His voice is so quiet, so weak that Anakin hardly hears him, but he clearly feels Obi-Wan reaching out through their bond, caressing him softly as his strength ebbs.

"No. No, you can't die," Anakin pleads, tightening his grip on Obi-Wan's hand as if it might be enough to keep him there, to keep him alive. Obi-Wan holds his gaze, and surprisingly, there is nothing accusing in his blue-gray eyes. His Force signature weakens further, even though Anakin tries to use the Force to stop it. He's not a healer; he doesn't know how to use the Force to heal another, and Obi-Wan's injuries are far too grave anyways.

Obi-Wan goes limp, their bond shattering with his death, and Anakin screams.

This – this so much worse than when his mother died. Nothing can possibly hurt more than this. Obi-Wan was – he raised him. He taught him everything he knows. He was his father, his master. This – no. Anakin can't accept his death. If he can't save him – at least him, please, he can't lose him too – then he knows that he'll never be able to go back to the Jedi. He'll drift, lost and alone. Forever. He can't even go back to Padme when he killed his own father.

Anakin reaches out to the Force, violently, desperately. He will make this right. He won't let all of this have been in vain. The Dark Side is elusive, evading his grasp while trying to draw him in further. He refuses to be deceived by it, pouring his pain and anger into it, forcing it to yield to him. Even without the ritual aiding him, Anakin manages to delve into the chaos of the darkness, seeking out the gateway. This time, he finds it.

The Force is screaming around him, and he is the center of the storm. He is the son of the Force – or so the Jedi say – and he refuses to bend to it. He, and he alone, is its master. He is his own master. He will never bow down to another.

Anakin slams into the gateway, forcing it to give way beneath the sheer power he's wielding. And then, he's surrounded by darkness, disconnected from his body, though he can still sense it faintly. It would be easy, he realizes with apprehension, to become lost in here, to become trapped here. If he's gone for too long, he'll die he knows. A body cannot survive long without a soul to inhabit it.

The ritual has been broken, so he has no way of using its power to draw his mother here. Her and Obi-Wan. His master will be easier; his body is still warm, still with Anakin. His mother will be harder. Closing his eyes, tuning out everything but himself, Anakin reaches out, using himself as a beacon. He remembers what his mother felt like, and he uses that knowledge, calling out to the soul he once knew so well.

It takes time; he has no idea how long it's been before he feels his mother's warm presence hovering next to him. Opening his eyes, Anakin sees her. She looks… well, she looks how he remembers her, but older. She's healthy, of course, uninjured.

"Mom," Anakin breathes, reaching out to her.

"Ani," Shmi replies, letting him embrace her. Anakin buries his face in her shoulder, inhaling shakily as he combats his emotions. Apparently, even spirits can cry in a sense. "You shouldn't be here," she continues.

"I came to save you," Anakin tells her, pulling back, though he doesn't let her go. He doesn't know if he even can.

She smiles sadly, reaching out to cup his face. "It was my time," she says simply, "And I have never liked meddling with the boundary between life and death. Besides, I will not ask you to sacrifice so much for me."

Anakin wavers, uncertain. "What do you mean?" he asks. "I'm here. I just need to… bring you back with me."

His mother's expression is filled with fond exasperation, not unlike the look Obi-Wan often wears – wore – and it's like a knife to the chest. "It is not that simple. Did your guide not explain this to you?"

"Um… no?" he offers, confused. A part of him wonders how his mother could possibly know so much about necromancy. She was never a witch; she might have been Force sensitive, but that alone would not give her the necessary knowledge. Some things, he suspects, are better left unknown, so he doesn't ask her about it.

Shmi shakes her head with a sigh. "There are two ways to bring someone back," she explains. "Either simple reanimation, which will only leave you with a soulless body, similar to the individual in personality and actions, but it is not truly him or her. The alternate, revival, is far more complex. It requires immense concentration and power, especially since it results in the creation of an unbreakable link between the two. Their soul will pass through the necromancer's as they return. Everything in their minds will be shared at that moment, and if one later dies, the other will as well. Immediately."

Anakin stares at her with wide eyes, and he can't help but ask the question he's been wondering. "How do you know all of this?"

Her lips quirk into a small, strained smile. "Before… Gardulla bought me, I was owned by a necromancer," she answers.

Interesting. Anakin never asked about his mother's former master, for obvious reasons, and he never would have suspected something like that. "But be that as it may," Shmi continues, "I will not ask that of you. More than that, I do not want you to be bound to me like that. Ani, I want you to be happy." She leans forwards, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you so much, my son. I don't want you to sacrifice your life for me."

Anakin blinks, a few tears falling down his face. "I don't want to lose you," he chokes out, hugging his mother tightly. "I love you, Mom."

"I will always watch over you, if the Force allows me to," she promises.

He wants to beg her, to convince her to change her mind, but he knows it will be no use. Shmi will not budge. She has already made her decision, and whether he likes it or not, Anakin has to respect that. He doesn't – he can't –

"Besides," his mother continues, interrupting his spiraling thoughts, "I believe there is someone else here who you wish to bring back, and the risks of reviving two people is far too high. You might be strong, but without proper training, it will kill you, and I don't want that to happen."

Anakin nearly stops breathing at the mention of Obi-Wan. It makes him wonder how much his mother knows about what he did after her death. She was always so kind-hearted. Surely, she would never have condoned his actions…? Shame floods him, and he finds himself unable to look at her. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I failed you, Mom."

"No," she replies firmly, "You didn't. Now, find your father –" Obi-Wan. "– and take him back with you. You can't take us both, and you need him more than me."

"That's not true," Anakin protests weakly, knowing that she's right even as he says it. He doesn't want to have to choose between them. He wants to save them both. He can't. He doesn't know what he's doing, even, and his mother clearly knows far more than he does. If she says it's not possible, then it's not. He doesn't know who else to ask for training anyways, and he knows that the more time passes, the more difficult it will be to revive someone.

Shmi only smiles indulgently. She hugs him again, tightly before pulling away. "Go, now, and don't look back."

It's an echo of what she said to him when he left Tatooine with Qui-Gon, and it hurts. It hurts more now than it did then. Anakin takes a step back, wavering. He has a choice: Shmi or Obi-Wan. His mother or his father. He can't have both. It might kill him – it feels like it is – but he already knows what he's going to do. He knew it the moment the bond in his mind shattered, leaving him feeling empty and lifeless.

"I love you," he whispers.

"And I you," his mother replies.

Anakin turns, taking a few steps away from her, further into the darkness. Her presence fades, and though it feels as if he's being stabbed repeatedly to know that his mother is forever lost to him now, he silently calls out for Obi-Wan. He knows that his master will see everything in his mind, and that realization terrifies him, but he would never forgive himself for taking the cowardly option and leaving him here. He needs Obi-Wan. He needs his father back. If he has Obi-Wan, everything will be alright. Somehow.

He doesn't have to wait nearly as long as he did when he called out for his mother. Obi-Wan materializes in front of him. "I expected you to come here," his master says without preamble. He seems disappointed, and Anakin flinches.

"What else was I supposed to do?" Anakin demands, somewhat resentfully. He wishes that his master could understand his feelings instead of castigating him for having them. It's not his fault that he feels so deeply all the time. He's always been like this as far as he can remember, even back on Tatooine. It's not something he can change simply because someone wants him to. Why can he never be enough for someone?

Obi-Wan sighs, looking tired. Can spirits get tired? Or is it simply because Obi-Wan doesn't want to deal with him anymore, a traitorous part of his mind wonders. "It's not that I'm not grateful that you're here to try and bring me back, but you're using the Dark Side, Anakin," he points out flatly. "I wish you hadn't gone that far."

"What did you want me to do?!" Anakin yells, anger lashing outwards. He's not angry at Obi-Wan – well, he is, but he's even angrier with himself; it's his fault that everything is falling apart like this. He wants to cry, but he won't, not in front of his master.

"Perhaps you should have listened to me in the first place," Obi-Wan suggests gently.

Anakin jerks backwards, stung. He already knew that, but to have his master say that, especially right now… He inhales shakily, turning his back on Obi-Wan to hide the tears flooding his eyes. He clenches his fists, digging his fingernails into the palm of his left hand to ground himself. There's nothing new about this, but it's been a long time since he was emotionally vulnerable enough to be hurt so much by something his master says.

There's nothing he can say to that anyways; he knows he should have. Obi-Wan is right, as he often is, and it makes Anakin feel stupid and unreasonable. He let his emotions cloud his judgement. Again. No wonder he's such a terrible Jedi; no wonder the Council doesn't trust him. They have no reason to. He does his best, but it's not enough. It never has been.

"I – I'm sorry, Master," he says the way he always does. His voice is toneless, devoid of emotion. He is sorry, more than he could ever express, but it changes nothing. It doesn't change that Obi-Wan died because of him. He's right to yell at Anakin. After all, Anakin got him killed as a result of his stupidly and refusal to listen.

Obi-Wan touches his shoulder lightly, and Anakin freezes at the contact, simultaneously wanting to pull away and lean closer. "I know." He sounds exhausted. "Do you know how to do this?"

"No," he admits a bit sheepishly, blinking away the moisture in his eyes, "But I can figure it out." He came this far; he's not going back unless he can bring Obi-Wan with him.

Anakin closes his eyes, reaching out to the Force, letting the Dark Side settle heavily around him. Obi-Wan's Force signature feels like a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness, and Anakin grasps it, curling the Force around it protectively and cradling it like it's something precious. It is. If he messes this up – damages Obi-Wan's soul in any way – it will be over, probably for both of them. Worst of all, Obi-Wan may never become one with the Force the way he is now.

The risks are ridiculously high, and Anakin knows that. Doing something like this with no training or guidance could result in disaster, but he's too stubborn to back down. He remembers what his mother told him about how revival works, and as terrified as he is of letting Obi-Wan see him as he really is, he won't let that stop him. Maybe Obi-Wan will be disgusted with him and walk away, never looking back, but… Anakin would be alright with that. At least his master will be alive, and that matters more to him than anything else.

If Obi-Wan feels his terror, he doesn't comment. Anakin lets himself reconnect with his body, feeling it distantly and realizes that he doesn't have much time left. If he doesn't return soon, it will be too late. His fear propels him onwards, and he pulls Obi-Wan's soul towards him, gently encouraging the subconscious of his master to come with him. So far into the Force, Anakin can acutely sense everything, far more than usual, and he realizes that the ritual will work.

He turns back to look at Obi-Wan, holding his eyes for only a moment before looking down. "We'll link minds," he explains to him. "For this to work, we'll see everything in each other: the best and the worst." He tries not to think about how Obi-Wan will react to learning of the Tusken Raider massacre.

"It doesn't seem like there is much of a choice then," Obi-Wan replies. Is it Anakin's imagination, or does he really sound dismayed at the prospect?

Anakin reaches out to him again through the Force, and this time, Obi-Wan reaches back. The moment they link, the Force explodes into chaos around them, and Anakin feels himself falling, spinning through the tumult in the Force, hoping that he'll reach his body when all is said and done. Memories flash through his mind, and he sees his master's life, experiences his joys and sorrows. There is nothing which Obi-Wan can hide from him. Not anymore. And Anakin knows that he'll never be able to doubt his master again.

He feels the extent to which Obi-Wan loves him, something his master is hiding even from himself. He's unwilling – unable – to acknowledge how deep that love goes because it scares him. He subconsciously wants things which go against the Jedi way, but it's what Anakin has always wanted from him, and that realization makes his heart beat faster. Obi-Wan has always been like a father to him; Anakin never once dreamed that Obi-Wan considered him a son… but he does, if only subconsciously. His master wants to be more to Anakin than he currently is. He wants to act as a true parent should, though it's a want he's not even consciously aware of.

Anakin had feared that he would lose everything if he exposed himself to Obi-Wan in such a way, but now that they know one another so intimately, he realizes that there is no way their relationship will remain the same. One way or another, it has to change. Neither of them will be able to view or treat the other the same way, whether for better or worse.

Blackness descends, consuming him, and Anakin falls into unconsciousness.

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