I Don't Like Sand

Author's Note: I wrote this because I wanted to explore a headcanon about why Anakin hates sand so much and what exactly it reminds him of. This isn't the kind of thing I normally write about, so... be warned, I guess. :')

It's canon-compliant, and the ending... isn't exactly happy like most of my canon-compliant one-shots. xP

WARNING: Implied/attempted rape/non-con.

~ Amina Gila


The sky is a beautiful, cloudless blue, the day warm, but not too warm. For Anakin, it's actually somewhat cool, but he doesn't mind too much as long as everyone else is comfortable. It's only a couple days after he and Obi-Wan retrieved the cure for the Blue Shadow virus, and now, the two of them, along with Ahsoka and Padme, both of whom are still recovering their strength after being infected, have been granted some leave time.

It will be at least a week before Padme and Ahsoka are recovered enough to return to their normal duties. Padme had been grumpy about it initially, but Sabe had promised to cover for her, so instead of moping about being denied the ability to work – not that Anakin could blame her if she did, because he thinks he might have done something similar in her place – she decided to arrange a vacation for them.

And so, here they are at the Naberrie estate in Lake Country. Right now, they're going down to the beach, something Anakin is admittedly wary about. He's prepared, so he doesn't think he'll have a problem being in the sand, but he can never be too certain. If it was only the two of them here, they might be holding hands while walking, but they're not, so Anakin is forced to treat Padme as nothing more than a friend. He doubts Ahsoka notices anything; as for Obi-Wan… well, they've never talked about it, but he suspects sometimes that his former master already knows about his relationship with Padme, albeit probably not their marriage.

He can feel the sand beneath his bare feet and shivers slightly before dropping to the ground beneath a shady tree. All of them are wearing clothing which is more suitable to the beach, which in his and Obi-Wan's case, means wearing only their inner robes and no boots. Padme is wearing a fancy swimming dress of sorts which he's never seen before, and Ahsoka has donned something similar, something which Padme loaned to her.

"Don't mind me," he calls to the others as he lays back on the sun-warmed ground, half in the sun and half in the shade. He lets the sunlight warm his face as he closes his eyes, soaking in the sheer peacefulness of the Force here on Naboo. It's almost like meditating. And to think that all of this life and happiness could have been destroyed – eradicated – had he been any slower.

Pushing those dark thoughts to the back of his mind, Anakin opens his eyes again, turning his head slightly to look at his family and friends. Maybe after the war is over, Anakin can invite the 501st to take a vacation like this. "Are you sure you want to stay there, Master?" Ahsoka chirps, wiggling her toes in the sand. She's never been to a place like this before, and Anakin can sense how fascinated – and delighted – she is by her surroundings.

He hums an agreement. "I don't like sand," he replies, keeping his tone level so that no one will pick up on the shivers of unease which creep up his spine when he talks about it. Sand holds far too many bad memories for him to ever enjoy it the way some people do. "It's coarse, and rough, and irritating… and it gets everywhere."

Ahsoka snorts, her laughter echoing across the beach. The sound makes Anakin smile, because she's still a child. She should get the chance to be happy, to grow up without having to worry about the Clone Wars. It's not fair to her. He smothers the thought, unwilling to indulge in dark thoughts while in such a beautiful place. "Don't be silly, Master," she says teasingly, bending down and scooping up a handful of sand, letting the grains trickle through her fingers. "The sand here is smooth and fine… It's not irritating. I could sleep on it!"

Thankfully, Padme interrupts before they can get into a stupid argument about it. "Would you like to swim in the lake?" she questions.

Ahsoka cheers. "Yes!" With a squeal, she takes off down the shore. "Race you!" Her giggles ring out as she runs, and Anakin finds himself smiling again.

After a moment, Obi-Wan sits down next to the tree trunk, leaning against it as he pulls out a datapad. Anakin sighs. "Master, you can't possibly want to do reports or whatever, while we're on a vacation."

"I don't," Obi-Wan replies calmly, raising an eyebrow at him as he strokes his beard.

Anakin gives up trying to formulate a logical argument before he even starts, only rolling his eyes at Obi-Wan before rolling until he's in the sunlight. He closes his eyes, letting himself begin to drift off to the sounds of Obi-Wan tapping on the datapad, and Padme and Ahsoka laughing as they splash in the water. Distantly, he can hear the roaring of a waterfall, and he knows that if he looks up, he'll see it cascading down into the far end of the lake, crashing against the surface of the water below with tremendous power.

He doesn't fall asleep exactly, but his mind becomes lost in the currents of the Force, feelings its eddies as it flows. Everything is calm here. Everything is peace, regardless of how much it can hurt him to feel things so deeply. At times, when the Force isn't calm, it feels as if it will rip him apart. But this? This he doesn't mind. He can feel the life all around him, and for once, Anakin is calm. It's rare to achieve such a state of tranquility, especially with the war.

All at once, his trance is shattered as something hits his face. He jolts, lips parting involuntarily as he inhales, sand trickling into his mouth. The grains are… well, they taste like sand, and he jerks upright, spitting them out, heart racing, his vision whiting out as he spirals into a full-blown flashback.

**w**

The suns are right overhead, heat beating down on him, searing into his skin. Watto has been extremely grumpy these past couple weeks, screaming at him and his mother more often than not. They still have water to drink – a dehydrated slave is a dead one, after all – but they haven't eaten in a few days, at least not normal food. Anakin managed to find some scraps yesterday. He's starving, but Watto doesn't care. He'll probably give them food tonight though. That thought makes him slightly happier, and he hurries back home even faster.

He senses something is amiss right before someone steps into his path. It's a middle-aged human man, who reeks of alcohol. Anakin skids to a halt, his instincts telling him to run as fast as he can. "You there," the man half sneers, half laughs. "What're you doing out here all alone?"

Anakin's heart nearly skips a beat because he knows people like this. He's heard stories from some of the other children, stories spoken in whispers of slaves, children or adults, dragged into allies and abused mercilessly by the scum on the planet. He doesn't even hesitate; he runs, or tries to, anyways.

"Get back here," hisses the man, grabbing the back of his tunic with surprising speed and hauling him backwards, pinning Anakin against his much larger body. "Where do you think you're going?"

"M-my master is expecting me," Anakin blurts out, squirming as he tries to free himself. "He's gonna be angry if I'm late." It's a lie, but it's not like the man knows that. "You must know of Watto, the junk dealer. He has a shop over that way." He gestures, but the man doesn't even seem to be listening to him.

Instead, he's mumbling under his breath. Anakin can't really hear any of the words, though he does catch the word "boy" spoken a few times. The man tightens his grip, dragging him into a nearby alley. Anakin cries out when he's thrown roughly to the ground, the hot sand uncomfortable under his hands. He rolls over, trying to get back up, but the man pins him to the ground.

"Don't hurt me," Anakin begs, kicking out and trying to free himself.

The man chuckles derisively, turning Anakin over and pushing him against the sand. He does the only thing he can; he screams, thrashing desperately, even though the struggle kicks sand up into his face. It's hot, and it's hard to breathe through, much less see through, but he's more worried about getting away.

"Let him go!" he hears his mother cry, sounding terrified and furious all at once. "He belongs to Watto! Watto will have your head if you hurt him!"

He hates being a slave so much, and the realization that his status can save him… Anakin shudders at the implications. The man snarls something half inaudible, but he reluctantly releases Anakin, who immediately scrambles to his feet, racing to the end of the alley where his mother is waiting and throwing himself into her arms, trembling. He knows what could have happened if she hadn't heard him screaming, and he's terrified.

Her arms wrap around him, and she lifts him up – he's nearly eight; he doesn't need to be carried, but he doesn't protest, burying his face into her shoulder, forcing himself not to cry. He can't afford to cry; it wastes water.

"It's alright, Ani," she soothes, stroking his hair gently and rocking him in her arms. "It's alright. I'm here."

**w**

His surroundings filter in gradually, and Anakin becomes distantly aware of the sound of voices, ones which he knows, so he doesn't panic – at least not any more than he already is. His breathing is far too fast and shallow, and he can't shake the feeling of being pinned to the sand, totally helpless. He's curled in on himself in a protective position, back pressed against the tree trunk.

"Anakin?" It's Obi-Wan, his mind supplies helpfully.

He's shaking uncontrollably, feeling this close to breaking and shattering into a million pieces. He should be stronger than this. There was absolutely no reason for him to lose control like that. But he did, and it's inexcusable. Does it matter though? It happened. He can feel the heat of the sand permeating his body through his thin tunic, sand seeping in through the holes. He's trapped, unable to run, unable to escape. All he can do is scream.

"What happened?" Despite the audible worry, Padme's voice is still soothing.

He forces his eyes to open, blinking to focus them. Ahsoka is hovering in the background, a stricken look on her face which is in stark contrast to the prominent worry in Padme's expression. She's kneeling near him, close but not touching. Obi-Wan is on his other side, and he seems torn between keeping his distance and touching him. Anakin consciously tries to calm himself down, to slow his breathing so he's not hyperventilating.

It's fine. He's fine. He's on Naboo, not Tatooine. There aren't any dangers lurking here. He's fine. Anakin inhales a bit more slowly, counting mentally in an effort to force himself to relax. It isn't easy, but this isn't the first time he's had to cope with something like this. Often, he's alone, so he doesn't need to deal with the embarrassment of making a scene. The realization that Ahsoka saw is nearly enough to send him over the edge again, but he refuses to start panicking all over again.

He probably would have though, especially since his thoughts start spiraling again, when Obi-Wan speaks. "Just breathe," he instructs gently, and Anakin can definitely hear the concern in his voice. "Focus on me."

Obi-Wan demonstrates, and Anakin tries to match his breathing to that of his former master's. At times like this, when Obi-Wan is being so nice and kind and gentle, Anakin wishes so badly that he was capable of actually talking to him, the way most normal humans do. He wishes that he didn't always have to feel so alone and trapped in his own memories of his past, but he – he doesn't know how to talk to Obi-Wan about things like that in a way which he'll actually understand. And then, the moments pass so fast, that Anakin is often left feeling… almost glad that he didn't open up, because losing that closeness would have been even harder.

He's not a good Jedi. He tries, though. He tries so hard, but it often seems to be for naught. He's simply not good enough. He hates being so alone, hates that he can still want things that he shouldn't. Why does it have to be so hard?

As his awareness and alertness return, Anakin becomes aware of the fact that he's trembling, both from his flashback – he shouldn't experience things like that; it's a weakness he doesn't have time for – and from shock, he thinks. He feels cold, despite the relatively warm temperatures around them. Obi-Wan's presence is a calm beacon amidst the tumult in his mind, and it helps ground him in the moment.

It feels like an eternity, though it's probably no more than ten or so minutes, before Obi-Wan speaks again. "Can I touch you?"

Anakin nods jerkily; he's never minded it when Obi-Wan touches him. It's grounding, soothing, and it makes him feel… protected and cared for, much the same way it was for his mother. Slowly, carefully, Obi-Wan lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

He shudders, memories creeping in from where he's holding them at bay, thoughts of a thousand moments in past of pain and helplessness. The one stands out most prominently, and he squashes the urge to – to do something to get rid of the feel of the foreign, unwelcome hands on him. He has never liked being touched by anyone except his close friends and family. For a long as he can remember, touch – especially from his masters – has only meant pain and suffering. It's an instinct which has never left him, even now.

"I don't – I don't know," he answers, a bit miserably. How can he put into words that the suddenness of the sand on his body had dredged forth memories he's long sought to bury?

Padme and Obi-Wan exchange a look, both of them seeming uncertain, neither of them having any answers. Ahsoka's apprehensiveness echoes through their bond along with a wisp of guilt. He wonders now if it was her who did that. Probably. She likely thought it would have been funny, and it would have been if he had been expecting it. He needs to pull himself together. His Padawan should never see him so vulnerable.

"It was… because of the sand though, right?" Padme questions softly. She's acting as though he's breakable, something to be handled with care, and it sends a vicious stab of fury through him, directed entirely at himself. It's wrong. He is her husband. He's supposed to protect her, not the other way around.

Still, he doesn't refuse to answer, humming an agreement. "Tatooine was… never an easy place to be," he says finally, acutely mindful of Ahsoka standing right there. She doesn't know about his past, his childhood, and she never needs to. "It just… brought up some bad memories."

Padme looks like she wants to ask more, and so does Obi-Wan for that matter. A part of Anakin expects that they will, that they'll drag the details out of him, that Obi-Wan will chastise him for losing control of himself, for letting his past affect him instead of "letting go." They don't.

Instead, Obi-Wan leans forwards slightly, shifting so that the distance between them isn't quite as far. "I'm sorry, Anakin," he says quietly, something pained and regretful in his voice, though Anakin isn't in the right state of mind to figure out why.

"It's – it's okay," he manages, exhaling as he scrubs a hand over his face. "I'm fine." The lie feels uncomfortably obvious, but no one calls him out on it.

"Do you want to go back?" Padme's voice betrays her uncertainty, and his gaze flickers between her and Obi-Wan.

Anakin doesn't want to ruin the fun that Padme and Ahsoka were having – he kind of already did that anyways – but at the same time, the thought of staying out here any longer makes him feel nauseous. He wants to go inside and curl up in his bedroom or on the couch; he feels exhausted right now.

While he's torn with indecision, Obi-Wan interjects into his dilemma. "Anakin and I can go back," he tells Padme. "You and Ahsoka can stay out here a little longer. It's still a nice day, and you're supposed to be spending time outside."

"Is that alright with you?" Padme questions.

Anakin nods, hardly trusting himself to speak, but doing so anyways. "I'll be fine with Obi-Wan, and it's… it's not as if anyone knows exactly where we are."

Obi-Wan pulls back from Anakin, rising to his feet. Anakin stands next to him, still feeling slightly shaky. "I'm sorry, Master." Ahsoka's voice is quiet and small, and she sounds unbearably guilty.

It makes him feel guilty to hear. "Hey, this isn't your fault, Snips," he promises, injecting as much conviction into his voice as he can. "I should have been paying attention to my surroundings." She looks dubious but doesn't argue which he takes to be a good sign.

As he and Obi-Wan make their way back to the house, he can feel Padme's and Ahsoka's eyes following them – him, in particular. He tries not to let it bother him; they have a reason to worry about him, much as he wishes they wouldn't.

Obi-Wan remains silent until they've reached the house. "Are you okay, Anakin?" he inquires, something intent and worried in his blue-gray eyes. Now that they're alone, Anakin knows that he could try to explain, but it would be fruitless. Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to understand, and Anakin doesn't think he has the energy – or ability – to try and help him understand.

So, all he says is, "Yes."

His former master looks almost disappointed, but the expression is fleeting, making Anakin wonder if he imagined it. Perhaps. Perhaps not. It probably doesn't matter because the moment is already over.

Years later, a part of Anakin – Vader – can't help but wonder if he should have tried to make Obi-Wan understand, regardless of how painful it would have been for the both of them. Certainly, it would have been preferable to the eternal loneliness he feels now.

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