Touch Me Not
Author's Note: I'm not really sure what inspired this, but I wrote excerpts from it for Whumpay and the Disaster Trio Appreciation Week this year. :P I hope you enjoy this fic! :D
~ Amina Gila
Slaves have no authority over their body, which is the sole possession of their master. All they own is their mind. It's a lesson which Anakin had learned early on, maybe even before he could walk or talk. It was common for slavers to beat or whip slaves who misbehaved or did something – anything could be an offense – to upset their master. As a result, Anakin was always wary of being touched, unless it was by his mother or a friend. Touch was long a sensitive subject for him by the time that he was freed and taken away from Tatooine.
But leaving his home planet didn't automatically mean that Anakin would be free of years of engrained conditioning which told him that a touch could be the beginning of pain just as easily as comfort. He knows that Jedi don't intentionally inflict injuries on others. That doesn't mean his brain seems to get the message.
At first, he alternated between being accepting of contact with his new master and going out of his way to shun it. As days dragged on to weeks, Anakin slowly began to accept that Obi-Wan would never physically harm him, regardless of what he did wrong. It was a great comfort to the boy, who had always enjoyed touch, especially being that it was often a privilege to share. His mother touched him frequently, stroking his hair or hugging him or other small displays of affection. When the contact isn't meant to hurt, Anakin has come to view it as the most special comfort of all.
A nightmare jolts ten-year-old Anakin awake, and he lays in bed for a few moments, shaking. Even as the images fade from his mind, the all-consuming fear remains, finally prompting him to stumble out of bed and towards Obi-Wan's bedroom. He hates disturbing him, but he doesn't want to be alone either. He wants his mother to be here to comfort him, but she's not.
"Master?" he asks timidly upon entering Obi-Wan's room.
There's a muffled groan before his master shifts and half sits up. "Yes, Anakin. What's wrong?" he questions sleepily.
"'M had a nightmare," Anakin admits, feeling unsure of himself. This isn't the first time he's come to Obi-Wan in the middle of the night after a nightmare, but he's always inexplicably hesitant, fearing that one night, his master will be annoyed with him over disturbing him because of such a trivial thing.
"Come here then," Obi-Wan invites, voice patient as always. Anakin doesn't even hesitate before crawling under the blankets next to his master. He feels safe again, now that he's cocooned in the warmth of the bed, Obi-Wan's body a solid presence next to him. Obi-Wan shifts, letting Anakin curl against him and wrapping an arm around his waist.
Safely next to Obi-Wan, Anakin feels his eyes begin to slip closed again, his nightmare a distant memory as sleep pulls him under. The last thing he feels is Obi-Wan rubbing his back soothingly before he drifts off.
**w**
Anakin knows that he shouldn't be walking right now but being as he tends to ignore the healer's orders – come to think of it, he probably gives them as much of a headache as Obi-Wan does – he's doing it anyways, using the wall as support just in case his left leg gives out from under him. It hurts, true, though not any worse than what he's experienced in the past. Slowly and gingerly, he lowers himself on the couch, holding back a groan as he leans against the cushions.
He and Obi-Wan just returned from a mission, and as is the norm, they had been attacked by a band of thugs, probably hired to kill them. After Anakin had taken a blaster bolt to the leg, they'd run for it, which meant that they didn't get answers. Oh well. At least they were successful.
"Padawan…" Obi-Wan's voice is mildly disapproving and exasperated. "You were given mandatory bed rest for the next two days so your leg can heal properly."
"I was bored." Anakin definitely doesn't whine. Fifteen is far too old for such things. "Besides," he adds under his breath, "It's not as if you listen to the healers."
Obi-Wan's lips twitch, obviously fighting a smile, and Anakin can feel his amusement through the Force. "Well, now that you're out here, you might as well stay," he declares, skillfully avoiding replying to Anakin's comment. Typical. He walks across the room, sitting next to Anakin. "We should review your lessons," he suggests. "You missed a couple classes when you were gone; the mission took longer than we thought it would."
Anakin mumbles something unflattering under his breath. "Fine, Master," he agrees.
They don't get very far before Anakin begins to feel drowsy, probably a result of his injury. Obi-Wan doesn't say anything, only wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him lean against him. A feeling of contentment washes through Anakin as he relaxes against his master. He's safe now; he can finally relax.
**w**
Anakin stares down at his mechanical hand with a numb sort of horror. He hates it. It's not part of him, and he can't feel in it the way he could his organic hand. And it's… strange. He doesn't know how to use it properly. Even if he has always been good with machines, he never wanted to be one! He's been prescribed a week of physical therapy at the Temple, so he can get used to his prosthetic. He doesn't want to have to get used to it, but he doesn't have a choice. It's not as though he can spend the rest of his life one-handed.
The only consolation is that Padme isn't repulsed by it. And nor is Obi-Wan, for which he's even more grateful. He doesn't know what he would do if his master viewed his new arm with disgust. "Padawan, are you alright?" Obi-Wan's voice breaks through his spiraling thoughts, and he looks up to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway of his bedroom – he hadn't even heard the door open – concern on his face.
"It's wrong," he whispers, turning his limb over and shuddering at the feel of it. It's imbalanced, a little heavier than his organic arm, and he doesn't want it.
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says quietly, coming slower, hovering within reach as if he's unsure whether or not he should come closer. He exhales quietly, and Anakin can keenly feel his regret.
"For what, Master?" queries Anakin dully, fisting his right hand. He can feel the vibrations of the gears and nearly shudders again.
Obi-Wan is silent for a moment before answering. "I should have stopped Dooku from hurting you. I was being stupid; I didn't see his feint for what it was," he admits.
Anakin jerks as if struck. "It's not your fault I lost my arm!" he exclaims. "You know that – that Dooku –" That he stumbles over the name is something both of them ignore. "– was one of the best duelists in the Order. Master, you're good, but he's had far more experience than you."
"I should have protected you," Obi-Wan amends, acknowledging Anakin's point by failing to say anything about it.
"Maybe," Anakin allows, "But I don't blame you. I should have listened." Maybe if he has, he wouldn't now be facing the horror of having a metal limb. It's strange and not part of him.
Obi-Wan suddenly sits down on the edge of the bed next to him, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. Almost without thinking, Anakin leans into the comforting touch. "I'll help you," his master promises. "I'll be here with you while you get used to it. It will take time." His words are soothing, and Anakin can't help the tears which flood his eyes.
"I hate it," he confesses shakily, blinking as a few tears escape down his face.
"It will be okay," murmurs Obi-Wan gently.
A strangled cry escapes from him, and he reaches out, pulling Obi-Wan closer and pressing his face against his chest as he cries quietly. Nothing will be the same again – not for him physically anyways – and it hurts. He'll never be fully human, not like Obi-Wan. He lost an integral part of himself; Dooku took it from him, and Anakin doesn't think he'll ever be able to forgive the Count for that. But for now, he's here in Obi-Wan's comforting embrace, and it's enough.
**w**
Anakin can't sleep, not that he's really tried, to be honest. He decided it was a lost cause when his mind wouldn't stop swirling with thoughts and doubts, so instead, he went to the main hold of the Twilight to tinker with some of the planned modifications he'll be making on the shuttle. He's careful to remain quiet enough that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka aren't disturbed in the cabins.
It's not even been a week since Mortis, and still, Anakin can't get the images from his mind, and worse yet, the knowledge that he forgot something of crucial importance, something which could have allowed him to save the galaxy, something which was bad enough to push him over the edge to the Dark Side. He wishes he knew. What could it have been? He slams a tool down a tad harder than necessary, the clang resounding throughout the hold. Artoo whistles concernedly.
"I'm okay, buddy," Anakin answers reluctantly. "I can't remember some important things, and I'm just worried." That's probably an understatement, but he doesn't think he could bring himself to confess his deepest fears right now, not while Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are only a short distance away.
"You got a memory wipe?" Artoo queries.
"Yes," Anakin sighs, slumping back against the wall. "Yes, exactly." He knows of no other way to explain to Artoo what happened in language which he'll understand.
The door to the main hold suddenly slides open, and Anakin looks to see Ahsoka stick her head in. "You're still awake?" she queries, sounding both surprised and relieved. She looks exhausted and doesn't appear to have slept at all.
"I am," Anakin agrees. "Can't sleep either?"
She shakes her head and tiredly moves across the room to sit down next to him, shoulder brushing his as she settles down. "What are you doing?"
"Fiddling," he replies dryly and glancing around at the part strewn on the floor. "I was working on more modifications."
"I'll help," she offers. They fall into a quiet pattern, and it's easier with Ahsoka's help. Her presence keeps Anakin distracted. Somehow, he's not surprised when the door opens again sometime later, and Obi-Wan steps through, raising an eyebrow at the mess.
He circumvents the mess on his way to get something from the small kitchen area, probably a cup of tea which he's hoping will calm him enough to sleep. Apparently, none of them are finding rest easy. The last time Anakin slept – it was two days ago by now – he'd had nightmares of yellow eyes staring at him. It haunted him for hours afterwards.
When Obi-Wan returns with a steaming mug, he surprisingly sits on the floor on Anakin's other side. That he doesn't make any quips about how they'll all awake says a lot about his current emotional status. Mortis has left scars on all of them, and Anakin can only hope that they'll eventually fade along with those they've gotten from the war.
It's peaceful with the three of them there, Ahsoka and Artoo passing him parts and tools which he needs. "Do you want something?" Obi-Wan finally breaks the silence, though his voice remains quiet.
Anakin shakes his head. "Stay," he says instead, shifting so that he's pressing up against Obi-Wan's side. He's – he's scared that something will happen and Obi-Wan will abandon him. He doesn't think he could bear the pain of the rejection without breaking under it.
"Very well," decides his former master, setting the empty mug on the floor a distance away. He leans back against the wall also, the motion keeping him right next to Anakin, touching him. It's as soothing as it is grounding, and Anakin feels some of the tension drain away. It's not that easy of a fix, of course; he Fell, and no one has answers, but if they all stay here together, they can get through this. He knows they can.
**w**
When Anakin steps back into his apartment after the briefing upon their return from Zygerria, he's not exactly surprised to see Ahsoka curled on the end of the couch. They haven't really spoken about what happened, but he knows that her experiences – while nothing like his own – were very traumatizing for her, probably especially since she'd had no idea what to expect. At least she wasn't physically assaulted – technically, nor was he, but the feeling of utter helplessness, of being unable to stop someone from touching him like that, tore loose something inside of him which he's long kept buried.
Ahsoka is alright. She'll recover in time. It's the only consolation he has. "Hey Snips, how are you feeling?" he asks quietly, settling down next to her.
The brightness in her eyes is dulled somewhat from her experience. She sighs, looking up at him. "I'll be fine, Skyguy," she assures him. "I just can't believe that anyone could do something like that to another sentient."
He knows the feeling all too well. It's something that he's never understood. He probably never will, either. "Yes," he agrees, "I know."
Ahsoka leans against him, and he knows that she's silently seeking out comfort. He shouldn't have asked her to do what she did, but they had no choice. Someone had to play the part of the slave, and though he would have much preferred Ahsoka not be involved, it was more likely for a human to have a Togruta slave than a fellow human. It worked. It's in the past. So, why can't he let it go?
Anakin wraps an arm around her shoulder, holding her securely against his side. It's nearly dark outside, and the Council meeting should be wrapping up soon. Somehow, he gets the feeling that Obi-Wan will be joining them here. While his former master hasn't talked much about his experiences, they were certainly traumatizing in their own right.
By the time the apartment door opens, Ahsoka is sleeping on his shoulder. Anakin looks up as Obi-Wan enters the room. He looks exhausted, and Anakin can't help but wonder if he's here, because he didn't want to be alone either. "How was the meeting?" Anakin questions, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb Ahsoka.
"Long," Obi-Wan responds dryly, and Anakin snorts.
"I could see that." He pats the seat next to him, a silent invitation. Surprisingly, Obi-Wan crosses the room and sits without hesitation. Anakin carefully shifts his position to become more comfortable, leaning some of his weight against his former master. Being snuggled close like this with him calms him in a way nothing else can.
"Sleep," murmurs Obi-Wan, "You need it."
Suddenly, Anakin feels drowsy, and he gives him a look, though it doesn't contain nearly as much heat as it normally might. "Did you just… Force suggest me?" he demands, his mechanical fingers curling into Obi-Wan's tunic, so he doesn't leave.
"Go to sleep," Obi-Wan says by way of reply, though Anakin can feel his smile.
He exhales slowly, letting himself sink further into the cushions and closes his eyes, resting his head on Obi-Wan. If he stays here like this, Anakin will be able to forget, for a time, what happened. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are here. They're safe. With that assurance, Anakin lets sleep claim him.
**w**
Anakin stands on the steps of the Temple long after Ahsoka has disappeared. He can't find it in himself to move, to go back inside, to continue as if this isn't the hardest thing he's ever had to do. But he does. Slowly and mechanically, he walks back into the Temple, heading towards his quarters. He doesn't want to be alone right now, but he doesn't have anyone who can be with him. Padme is busy, and he doesn't exactly want to see her. Tomorrow, he'll go, but not tonight. Tonight, he needs to cope with Ahsoka's loss alone.
He wants to be with Obi-Wan, but the very thought of touching him is all but repulsive. It's been… hard to touch Obi-Wan – excessively so at times – ever since the Hardeen incident, ever since Obi-Wan beat him before holding him in a chokehold until he fell unconscious. Touch from Obi-Wan always, always used to mean comfort, but that day – once he realized the truth – corrupted it, making it into something else entirely.
A part of him cries out, desperate for the contact, for the affection he got from Obi-Wan in the times when he needed it most when he was younger. He wants it, but he also fears it. Even if he gets it, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to relax, a part of his mind constantly fearing and wondering when the comfort will turn to pain.
Anakin inhales shakily, a feeling of desperate loneliness engulfing him when the door to his apartment – it's no longer Ahsoka's – closes behind him. He goes straight to his bedroom, dropping onto his bed and curling himself around his pillow. It's a poor substitute for a person, but there isn't anyone anymore.
He chose Obi-Wan over Ahsoka, choosing to stay in the Order with his former master instead of leaving with his… former Padawan. He'll never be able to regret it either, regardless of whether or not Obi-Wan is able to help. How is it possible for him to want Obi-Wan's comforting touch and to fear it at the same time? Silently, he reaches out to his former master's Force signature, clinging onto it though their bond remains shielded. Maybe this will be enough. It has to be.
It's not.
It's never the same after that. Though he and Obi-Wan remain close to a point, Anakin can no longer trust him the same. It becomes worse… and worse, until their duel on Mustafar. That's the last time Anakin touches him, the last time he touches anyone, at least knowingly. And by then, it's far too late for regrets – and he has so many – and too late for repairing anything.
Sometimes, even after becoming Vader, he still craves Obi-Wan's touch – though he fears it even more; the thought can, and has, invoked an irrational terror in him – and the comfort it brought him, but it's a yearning he ruthlessly suppresses, the desires of a child long since dead, a child who only wants his father – and brother – back.
Anakin never feels the touch of another person again.
When he dies, Obi-Wan is the one who is first to greet him as he teaches him how to preserve his consciousness. Anakin obliges, if only so that he can see his son – and daughter; he wants to meet her – again. And, there's a small part of him that wants to stay with Obi-Wan. They were always better together. They were never whole without the other.
Their Force signatures entwine together, far more closely than ever before. It's not a true touch, for which Anakin is actually grateful, but it's something much more intimate, something which is a promise of how much they mean, and have always meant, to one another. More than that, it's a promise of eternal closeness, which is the only thing Anakin has ever wanted. There's so much for him to work through and sort out, but he has the rest of eternity to do that, and with Obi-Wan this close to him – finally, finally – everything is doable.
