The room was gloomy. The walls were black, the floor grey, and the air was cold. On the far wall there was a cluster of windows that were angular, small individually but creating an overall large pattern, though it was too cloudy outside to really let any light in. The room was deathly quiet as if the sound had been sucked out of it.

"Keep it in the box," a voice whispered, breaking the deafening silence.

Jumping, Obi-Wan turned and saw a familiar young Imperial. "Anakin!"

Anakin put a finger to his lips. "I said keep it in the box."

"What?"

"You're frightened. Don't be. That isn't your job."

"My job? What are you talking about?"

"You have to let go of everything, Obi-Wan. Your sole purpose is to serve the Jedi. You have no needs, no wants, nothing. You are nothing. Anything you feel, you eliminate. It all goes in the box."

Holding out his hand, Anakin showed a glowing blue cube, which hummed and floated centimeters above his hand. Obi-Wan was mesmerized by the sight of it; wasn't that a holocron?

Something caught his attention in his periphery, however, and he turned to see ghostly images wandering the large, cold room. One looked like Siri, another Padmé, yet another Qui-Gon, Al, Sola, Ryoo, Mother, Father… what was going on?

Anakin grabbed a lightsaber that had been dangling from his belt. Igniting it, the room was filled with crimson. The color seemed to bleed into the cube as well, steadily corrupting the bluish glow. The cube shuddered as if being crushed, and it changed shape into a pyramid. Anakin walked towards Padmé first. Obi-Wan felt his heart clench.

"Anakin—" he started to say, but the young man was too fast, and in a heartbeat his blade tore through Padmé's ghostly image. She vanished into a misty cloud, and its essence was sucked into the pyramid.

Obi-Wan felt sick. "Anakin, stop this!"

Anakin glared at him, crimson reflecting from his eyes. "My name is Darth Vader."

Obi-Wan took a step forward and watched in horror as Anakin cut down his entire family. Just as with Padmé, they disappeared into a mist that was eventually swallowed up by the red pyramid in Anakin's hand.

"If you cannot let go, then you are useless," Anakin remarked coldly. "Don't Jedi teach non-attachment?"

"Anakin, detachment is not the same as dehumanizing," Obi-Wan replied in a surprisingly calm voice despite the circumstances. "Letting go doesn't mean eliminating. What you speak of isn't even detachment—it's extreme attachment. Devotion to the Jedi shouldn't be blind, it shouldn't be at the expense of one's morals, at the expense of others' lives."

The man walked towards Obi-Wan, his blade dangling lazily to the side. "What do you choose, Kenobi? To live by the laws of the Jedi, or to let your emotions turn you into something pathetic?"

"I choose patience," Obi-Wan answered. "I choose to wait and listen. I choose to help you, and then see where we can go from there. Killing you is not the Jedi way, nor is blind loyalty. A person's path is not always clear, nor is it always orthodox."

Anakin smirked, and Obi-Wan was startled by the expression; it looked so foreign on the boy. He'd never seen him smile. "Mother and Father would be proud."

Before Obi-Wan could say anything, the red blade cut through him. Heat seared from his right shoulder diagonally through him to his left hip, and he gasped as everything faded. He practically saw his essence slowly get drawn into what was once the pyramid—though now it resembled a Jedi holocron once more—and his heart rose into his throat.

Darkness filled him, but he was no longer cold. He felt some pressure on his abdomen, but when he looked, nothing was there. He felt like he was floating in an ocean, but he heard the small scraping sound of a wooden cane tapping the ground, echoing all around him but growing ever louder as if it were approaching.

"Mm, lost you are, yes?"

Obi-Wan jumped, but he couldn't find the source of the odd voice. "Who are you?"

The voice chuckled. "Important, that is not."

Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan coughed a little as the pressure on his abdomen increased. "I find it fairly important, actually… but you are right; I have no idea where I am."

"Where? Where you are, you say? Matters, that does not. Lost you are in other ways. Lost, many are."

Growing slightly annoyed, Obi-Wan again tried to find the source of the voice. "You could at least try to make a little more sense, you know."

"Try! Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try."

"So you're doing your absolute best to be as cryptic as possible, then?" Obi-Wan surmised, finally giving up in his endeavor. Then, he recognized the expression, and his eyebrows rose. "Wait—you're a Jedi?"

The person sighed, the sound filled with great weight and sadness, yet somehow hope as well. "Many Jedi there still are. Many more there may be. Uncertain the future is. Changed, the Force has. Fading, the darkness is, but eliminated, it is not."

"I'm not sure that helps me in my current predicament," Obi-Wan noted somewhat irritably as it steadily became more difficult to breathe.

"Mm, patience you must have, yes!"

"I—happen to be a bit—short on patience right now—" Obi-Wan gasped before squeezing his eyes shut as the pressure grew unbearable. He tried to take another breath, but nothing would fill his lungs, and in a panic—

He opened his eyes, and found himself laying on his side. At first he saw nothing. The air was slightly cool, but his body felt perfectly warm. He also felt a little stiff, and whatever his head was resting on was damp. The scent of hair filled his nostrils, and his abdomen throbbed painfully as some pressure pushed against it. His arm felt unusually heavy, hanging strangely, and his fingers were brushing against cloth that seemed to be rising and falling rhythmically.

Cloth. Clothes. A tunic. Someone's back. His hand was against someone's back. His arm was draped over someone. The pressure on his gut was from a pair of strong knees pressing against him.

Bed. He was in bed. He was in the dorm.

Anakin.

Exhaling as he got his bearings, Obi-Wan looked down slightly to see the top of Anakin's head nestled under his chin. The boy's breath tickled his neck, and apparently Anakin had curled into a tight little ball at some point in the night. It was a wonder he hadn't pushed Siri to the edge of their small bed.

It was at that point that Obi-Wan registered Siri wasn't actually in bed. Inching away from Anakin so he could finally take a full breath, Obi-Wan glanced around the tiny square room and prodded the Force. His bond to Anakin came to mind first, fully open but devoid of any sensation apart from… haziness? The boy was obviously still fast asleep. His bond to Siri subtly became prominent next; he could tell she was nearby, and, in fact, returning to the room.

The door opened quietly, his wife peeking in; she must have sensed him waking up. Obi-Wan was surprised to see her carrying a bundle, and he recognized the baby Devaronian that she'd temporarily looked after two days ago.

Entering the room fully, Siri closed the door silently behind her and then smiled, whispering, "Our neighbor had to take a shower, so I offered to look after her siblings in the meantime."

"What time is it?" Obi-Wan asked softly, wondering how he'd somehow overslept when Siri was wide awake. Typically it was the other way around, though he suspected her morning sickness might have woken her.

"About 0800," she answered. "Poor girl couldn't sleep, her brother was being fussy. I was only up because of weird dreams and the usual issues."

"Weird dreams?"

"Yeah," Siri acknowledged uncertainly, leaning against the wall and glancing at the baby in her arms. "First I dreamt that Padmé was alive, and she and Anakin were partners under Palpatine's regime. They were the best Imperials; always got the job done, always obeyed Palpatine… always together."

She shuddered. Obi-Wan looked at Anakin's sleeping form automatically before returning his attention to his wife.

"Then I dreamt about us," she continued. "We… I'd given birth to our daughter. We were hidden away somewhere, far from where anyone could find us. We were… powerful. Ridiculously powerful. Like the entire Jedi Council found us and fought us and we beat them."

"Why was the Council fighting us?" Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

Siri shrugged. "Hell if I know. But that's not even the strangest part; we became emperor and empress."

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows fly to his hairline. "What?"

Siri shook her head. "Hey, I told you it was weird. Anyway, I've been looking after the baby for almost an hour now; I think Isona wants to soak up as much hot water and alone time as possible."

Obi-Wan didn't comment, too befuddled by her dreams and too disoriented by his own.

"I wouldn't mind trading little ones with you, though," Siri eventually said with a sly smirk.

Obi-Wan couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips, and he pulled the covers a little more tightly around Anakin. "No, thank you. I'm quite content with my little one."

"Mine is far cuter, has less baggage in general, isn't stubborn or screwed up in any way… you'd be trading up."

"Mine doesn't require diaper changes." Obi-Wan countered knowingly.

Siri scowled. "Fine, you win. You'll eventually have to change diapers when our daughter's born, you know; I've been caring for her this entire time, so you're going to be picking up the slack."

"Well, then, I'll leave you to changing him," Obi-Wan motioned towards the baby in her arms. "It'll allow you to become an expert so you can demonstrate the proper technique for me when our daughter is born."

Siri snorted, slipping out of the room. Amusement trickled through Obi-Wan before he eventually gazed down at the sleeping boy once more, and his thoughts wandered to yesterday. He'd had plenty of terrifying moments in his life, but seeing Anakin finally at his wit's end holding a lightsaber in his hand had to be one of the worst. Obi-Wan hadn't known how to fix it, what to say, so he'd just said what came to mind first. He didn't bother trying to reassure the young man – he'd just said why he shouldn't end his life. It had been enough. It had always been enough. It had been the one thing the boy had needed to hear his entire life.

Someone loved him. He mattered.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, sitting up so Anakin would have more room on the bed. When had his and Siri's feelings for Anakin changed so drastically? When they'd first met, Obi-Wan had been fearful of Anakin, distrustful… Siri had been downright hateful. Obi-Wan recalled on Naboo when Siri had called Anakin a monster, and Padmé had immediately snapped at her for it.

Padmé. Yesterday had been such a whirlwind, ranging from uncertainty to panic to comfort to peace. But the most freeing aspect of all was forgiveness; Obi-Wan and Siri had forgiven Anakin for what he'd done, and without even realizing he'd still been carrying the weight of his sister's death on his mind, Obi-Wan found himself lighter than ever. He knew Siri felt the same way. He hoped Anakin at least felt a glimmer of that, but he knew they had a long way to go with the boy.

How long had they been on Ferrasco by now? Three days? Four? How long could they stay in this residence area? How long would the Imperials have the planet on lockdown? How long would it be before they had to start worrying about the Alliance searching for them?

There had to be some way to ensure the Rebels didn't track them down without having to make enemies or raise suspicions. Perhaps he could contact Qui-Gon after the lockdown had lifted. Telling Al to leave them would cause the man to panic – he didn't exactly trust Anakin the way they did. He didn't know Anakin the way they did by now.

Obi-Wan shook away the worry he had for the smuggler. Al had to be fine, and even if he wasn't… there was nothing Obi-Wan could do about it.

Sighing, the Jedi carefully crawled over Anakin and hopped off the slightly elevated bed. He turned around and rearranged the blanket so Anakin was well covered, and then he exited the room to wash up. Upon returning from the shared refresher, he ran into Siri, who had apparently been relieved of her bundle. "I see Isona finally got back."

"Yes," his wife smiled as the two entered the lounge to watch the sunrise. After the rain from yesterday, the sky was crystal clear with a creamy pink hue on the edge of the horizon. "So… any idea what we're going to do today?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and gave her a reassuring gentle smile. "Let's try to have some normalcy to our day; care to meditate?"

Siri chuckled. "I would've never guessed meditation would actually be something to look forward to."

Amusement leaked through their bond as the two sat on the sofa side by side, legs crossed, closing their eyes and bowing their heads. As soon as Obi-Wan actively opened himself up to the Force, he was nearly drowned in it, and a wave of drowsiness overcame him. He opened his eyes, startled, and Siri followed suit, albeit with less concern.

"Well that was odd," she remarked. "What was that?"

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. "I'm not entirely sure, but…"

The room shifted, and awareness lit up in the back of Obi-Wan's mind. Anakin was awake. Immediately he felt confusion, apprehension, shame, and near panic cut into his mind like sharp ice, and Siri rubbed her temples.

"Sudden headache," she grumbled. "You figure Anakin's up?"

Obi-Wan stared at his wife, marveling at how he'd somehow made a deeper connection with Anakin than she had. "Yes. Yes, he's very much awake."

The couple quickly returned to the bedroom in time to almost run face first into Anakin as he attempted to hastily leave the area. All three jumped, startled by the near collision, and then Anakin took a hesitant step away from them. He watched them uncertainly, his head lowered.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan greeted. "How are you feeling?"

Anakin's gaze drifting to the floor.

Mild concern and bewilderment emanated from Siri. "Are you okay? You want breakfast?"

Anakin's gaze locked with hers, his expression some strange mixture of stubbornness and uncertainty. His eyebrows knitted together slightly, creasing the space between them, and his blue eyes were intense but didn't hold their usual sharpness.

Siri sighed, knowing what she'd done wrong. "Do you need breakfast?"

Anakin exhaled, relieved, and nodded.

"You know you can't avoid that subject forever," Siri remarked, turning to head towards the stairway.

Obi-Wan continued to watch Anakin carefully, searching for any sign of last night's desperation in him, but through both his physical findings and the Force he concluded that the boy had actually settled. He just wasn't quite sure how to proceed now. Eventually he smiled and motioned for Anakin to follow him and Siri. The couple went down the stairs to the level below and entered the small kitchen, but the Force warned Obi-Wan that Anakin had passed their floor entirely and was heading outside. Yesterday he'd been fine with Anakin wandering about, but after last night…

Following the boy outside, Obi-Wan called out to him mildly. "Anakin?"

Anakin paused, keeping his back to Obi-Wan. "I need to walk."

Walk? It hadn't brought him much comfort lately apart from when Obi-Wan had walked with him the other day. "Do you want me to come along?"

Anakin sighed heavily and said nothing. The Force suddenly ruffled with mild frustration, and it started building on itself. Obi-Wan ignored the steady pressure wrapping around him and walked towards Anakin, putting a hand on his shoulder. "If you think it would be best, I'll stay here. But eventually you'll have to figure out the difference between what you need and what you want."

"I need to walk."

"And my offer?"

"I… don't know."

"You don't know if you want me to walk with you?"

"Why is your hand on my shoulder?"

"Don't avoid the question."

Anakin turned sharply to face him, shoving his hand away. "I don't know!"

Obi-Wan watched him patiently. "Well, just think about it. Does the idea of me walking with you make you irritated or content? Does it even affect you at all?"

Anakin shook his head. "I don't know."

That explained the frustration, then. It had nothing to do with Obi-Wan and everything to do with the fact that Anakin couldn't even parse out his own thoughts or feelings. Obi-Wan bit back a sigh; as if Anakin's dilemma hadn't been apparent to him and Siri for at least a week by now.

A week. Surely it hadn't just been a week. No… closer to two weeks. Maybe even three. Blast. How could such a short span of time feel like a lifetime?

Then again, Padmé and Anakin had only been together a week and a half.

Brushing the musings aside, Obi-Wan asked, "Why do you need to walk?"

He already knew the answer, but he wasn't sure how Anakin reasoned it.

"Walking… reinforces what it must. It eliminates anything unnecessary."

Obi-Wan grew curious. "Unnecessary?"

Anakin stared at him. Obi-Wan waited for an elaboration when he abruptly remembered that Anakin didn't seem to understand that cue. Sighing, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

Anakin shifted uneasily, and Obi-Wan sensed his discomfort. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't like talking about this. "It's… walking is necessary. I have to do it every day."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his tone indicating that answer wouldn't cut it. Anakin didn't quite catch the tone, but he did clearly sense Obi-Wan's determination.

"E…" Anakin stammered, suddenly more reticent than ever. He looked down for a moment, shook his head, and then looked back at Obi-Wan. "E-emotions. I… I shouldn't have them. Walking gets rid of them."

Obi-Wan blinked, startled. It took a few seconds longer, but it was at this point that Obi-Wan nearly fainted at what he'd just heard as it really sank in – Anakin had admitted he had emotions.

Obi-Wan had suspected last night was significant in many ways, but… he tried to hide his reaction as much as possible, realizing Anakin would likely not appreciate a huge fuss about the matter since he was already reluctant to speak about it. However, this brought up a new issue; Obi-Wan had thought walking was a means Anakin used to calm himself, not purge himself. Maybe letting him take a stroll wasn't such a great idea. "You can't get rid of your emotions, Anakin."

Disgust emanated from Anakin, and he completely missed Obi-Wan's questioning glance. He balled his fists and clenched his jaw, his gaze growing distant.

"You have no passion. A Sith Lord uses his anger as a weapon. You almost act like a Jedi in your manner of fighting."

Obi-Wan let the voice of Palpatine echo in his mind, giving him chills for a second. He knew that had bled through the bond with Anakin. It was obviously what was bothering him now.

He had to admit, it was extremely ironic that Palpatine of all people would make that observation about his son. He couldn't have been happy about that. And Anakin… couldn't have been pleased about it either. Obi-Wan sensed lingering pain at just the thought of it, and he knew his suspicion was right; Palpatine's remark had stung, and now it downright angered Anakin.

Obi-Wan had to ask. "Anakin, why would you hide your emotions when Palpatine wanted you to use them?"

The Force snapped, and Anakin immediately took a large step away, turning to leave. Obi-Wan stepped in his path. A part of him wanted to tap into their bond again, to figure out what was going on in Anakin's mind, but he'd learned from the other night not to do so; Anakin's near panic had indicated he did not appreciate anyone in his mind. Obi-Wan wondered if Palpatine had to do with that. It was likely. In either case, he knew he couldn't push Anakin too far; if he went after him relentlessly it might destroy all their progress. But there was still one question that had to be answered before Anakin could go anywhere, and the boy knew it.

Anakin took a deep breath, straightening and calming himself. "Go be productive."

Obi-Wan smirked. "That's not answering my question. Do you want me to walk with you?"

He shook his head, growing desperate. "I don't know."

Obi-Wan sighed. It was pointless to continue; they were hitting a duracrete wall. "Anakin… don't walk if you're just trying to suppress your feelings again. It won't do you any good."

"Nothing does me any good," Anakin muttered, his face darkening for a moment.

Obi-Wan took a step towards him. "Don't despair; just let me help you. I'm not accusing you of anything, I'm just trying to help."

Anakin's face softened. "I… I know. But I must walk."

Obi-Wan watched him sadly. "Remember what I said, then."

Anakin nodded and left. Obi-Wan reluctantly returned to the kitchen, and Siri was by the window, having observed their conversation. She looked at him with concern. "Is he okay?"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, sitting at the small table. "I… can't say. He's not in as bad a state as yesterday, at least."

"Shouldn't we go after him?"

He shook his head. "No. His nerves are frayed as it is. He needs time to recover, and I get the impression he can only do that by himself."

"Like the brilliant conclusion he came to yesterday?" Siri argued, taking a step towards him. "We can't let him hurt himself."

"I'm not," Obi-Wan stressed, looking her in the eye. "But harassing him won't help, either."

Siri blew out a breath, leaning against the table and looking away. "Obi, how do we know when to wait and when to pursue?"

Obi-Wan's gaze drifted to the window, and he saw Anakin's silhouette disappearing in the distance. "We have to trust the Force… we have to trust Anakin."

The flight in hyperspace was longer than Padmé had expected; according to Al it was because they had to avoid Imperials and the general insanity in the Seswenna Oversector. As Padmé heard the hyperdrive disengage, she wandered from the hidden upstairs quarters. She and Éothen had spent some time in the main cargo bay in silence before the soldier had apologized quietly and departed. He carried sorrow with him, but his temper had passed. Padmé felt terrible for him, and she didn't know what to do. She'd always been the one to offer solutions, but it was dawning on her that she apparently wasn't good at fixing anything.

Sighing, Padmé climbed down the ladder and entered the strangely quiet cockpit. There she found Al, Éothen, and a handful of his team staring out the viewport in silence. Slowly walking towards them, she was about to ask what was wrong when she saw it for herself.

Salkende was engulfed in a myriad of colors that she'd seen before on other worlds after a bombardment. Red and orange speckled its landmasses, indicating massive fires, and blackened earth remained of areas where the flames had died out. Small circular shapes showed massive bombing sites. She could tell Al had switched open communications but there was nothing but static.

"What… happened…?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Take us to Fjesky," Éothen ordered with a soft, hoarse voice.

Al complied wordlessly, and everyone held onto something as he flew the Beauty into the atmosphere. Padmé couldn't see Fjesky as they approached the landing site; plumes of smoke immediately covered the viewport, and Al had to rely on his computers to ensure he didn't hit anything. She glanced at Éothen. His jaw was clenched, his eyes wide, and he was very still.

As soon as the ship touched ground, Éothen marched out of the cockpit. A good portion of his team followed while some still stared out at the smoke, shocked and dazed. Padmé took off after Éothen, and Al frantically started inputting new frequencies into his comlink, likely calling the Rebels.

Oh gods, the Rebels.

"Éothen," Padmé called before coughing harshly as soon as she ran down the ramp. Smoke filled her lungs, hiding everything from view until she saw the silhouettes of the soldiers in his team. Coughing once more, she tore after them and ran into a clearing where the wind had managed to eliminate some of the breathing hazards. She got a clearer view of the damage, and she realized they had landed in the outskirts of the city. Homes were in tatters, debris littering the streets alongside bodies. Padmé felt her stomach clench as she saw the corpses of a family that had been escaping their home.

"Padmé!"

Startled, Padmé whirled around and saw Al running towards her. He pointedly ignored the bodies. "The Rebels here were practically annihilated. A few of them escaped the bombardment in smaller ships, but the main frigates were destroyed. Qui-Gon led them out; they're at Ghanu'jivo. We have to rendezvous with them there."

Padmé didn't know what to say. She certainly couldn't just acknowledge his statement like she would in a typical situation. All she could do was look around at her surroundings once more, all she could smell was the scent of burnt flesh and acrid smoke. Eventually she stared at Al once more, her mouth hanging open from shock. "W-why…?"

"Why?" Al repeated before softening. "Padmé… I don't know. The Empire's just… I don't know. I don't know how they even found out. But we have to leave before they decide to come back, or if they've got troops sweeping for survivors."

"Survivors?" What did that mean? Was Al implying that if there weren't stormtroopers in the city there were no survivors? This place wasn't just a tomb, was it? What about other parts of the planet?

"I told the other soldiers who were still on the Beauty," Al explained. "Padmé… we have to go."

"But…" Padmé looked around again, too stunned to even comprehend what he was saying, still trying to comprehend what had happened. She'd never seen this much devastation in one place.

"They're not all gone, Padmé," Al reassured her. "Qui-Gon said plenty of Salkendens escaped too. But…"

Padmé's eyes settled on the family once more. "Not all of them."

Al heaved a deep breath. "No. Not all of them. Come on. Don't do this to yourself. Don't go into the city."

Padmé shook her head, taking a step away from Al. When he called out to her, she shook her head again. "I… have to find Éothen."

"Look, I sent his soldiers to find him. Please, Padmé... we should go. I... neither of us wants nor needs to see this. It won't change anything and it won't help anyone. We have to leave."

She continued to swivel her head from side to side, stumbling away. Al took a few steps towards her as if to grab her, but she swatted his hand away. He stared at her worriedly but respected her wish, backing off.

"Find him and then get back here," he said, and then he rushed back to the ship to keep it prepped for immediate takeoff.

Padmé followed the soldiers, her mind barely registering the sights around her. After what felt like an eternity she saw a partially demolished tall wall-like structure with the outline of what was a building attached, as if the wall were originally part of some grand entranceway. The soldiers picked up their pace when they saw it, and she suspected this was where Éothen had gone. Running, she nearly twisted her ankle on the rubble, but she managed to keep moving and would occasionally pause when she stumbled upon another corpse. Judging from the amount of bodies, she had a very disturbing suspicion that no one got out alive from this structure. It was likely directly hit in the bombardment.

The soldiers seemed to spread out, searching the vicinity, but Padmé continued moving straight ahead, and eventually she saw the short montrals that she knew belonged to Éothen. She slowed her pace and approached him. He was sitting in the debris, his hand on the shoulder of a Togruta woman, his gaze on a Human male a few paces away from her. Both were cold and still.

Padmé watched the scene with dread before eventually whispering, "Éothen?"

"Salkende has no navy," Éothen said out of nowhere, his tone low. "We have a few fighters for bombardment within the atmosphere, but… nothing too advanced. Our war was always a ground war. We have a few turrets to ward off the occasional fighter, but… nothing like this. Nothing from orbit. Nothing like this."

Padmé's gaze moved from the bodies to the soldier, sensing a remorse she couldn't fathom.

Éothen's hand slowly slid from the woman's shoulder, and then he froze. "My clan is gone."

"Éothen…" What could she say? Condolences couldn't even begin to cover this.

"There's nothing for any of us here. Not right now." Éothen continued. Then he slowly stood and looked her in the eye with almost dead eyes, but something was quickly rising in them, and his body trembled. "My men told me about Ghanu'jivo. They also said there are a few salvageable ships. Your friend can go alone. You can go with him, if you so choose. Or you can stay with me. We will go to Ghanu'jivo, and I will find my people. We will rebuild. You… will you rebuild with me?"

She remained motionless. He was still in shock, but he was soldiering on. His family lay dead in front of him. He wasn't… well, perhaps he was trying to think straight. But she also recognized the question he was truly asking. This wasn't just a simple will you tag along. This was a choice, the choice she had been dreading.

Will you stay with me? Will you marry me? Will you rebuild with me? Or will you go with Almusian and remain with your Alliance?

Will you choose Darth Vader instead?

Padmé swallowed. "Éothen…"

What could she say?! She'd never truly wanted to marry Éothen, but she was the one who had dragged him into this mess. All of this was her fault. How could she abandon him now?!

But…

She couldn't decide this. Not now. Not now. "Éothen… I have to check on my family. Tarkin threatened them. I… have to make sure they're okay."

Éothen swallowed thickly. She wanted to smack herself, realizing a heartbeat after she'd spoken that she was talking about ensuring her family's safety while his lay dead on the floor. What was wrong with her?! Éothen bit down on something and then cleared his throat, closing his eyes and nodding. He knew she was deflecting. "I'll see you on Ghanu'jivo."

She felt disgusted with herself, and she refused to step away. Instead she took a small step towards him. "Éothen…"

He shuffled back from her. "Go. I'll see you on Ghanu'jivo."

"Éothen, I'm… I'm so sorry…"

Éothen didn't speak. He just shook his head.

Padmé looked at his family once more and then locked eyes with him. "We will defeat the Empire. I promise."

Éothen nodded, his entire body bobbing with him. Padmé took another step towards him, and he backed away from her once more. She eventually took the hint and felt even worse for it, but she still walked away to find Al and inform him that the two of them would depart for Naboo alone before rendezvousing at Ghanu'jivo.

Once she was gone, Éothen slowly sat on the rubble once more, staring silently at his parents.

The early hour of the morning ensured that the kitchen area in the dormitory was relatively barren for the duration of Obi-Wan and Siri's breakfast, and so the couple decided to linger there and keep watch for Anakin. An hour later, Obi-Wan sensed his return, and the Force felt infinitely calmer, the bond between the two quiet. Anakin had used the walk as an opportunity to close off his mind to the Jedi. Obi-Wan couldn't say he was surprised; he couldn't expect too many miracles from last night.

Siri sat up a little straighter as she sensed him, and the two busied themselves in the kitchen before eventually settling at the table, waiting for the boy. Anakin soon came into view, his face neutral, his body more relaxed than it had been when he'd left. He seemed to notice their scrutiny, and after reentering the building, he sought them out in the kitchen. His eyes immediately fell to the only available seat at the table, where Obi-Wan and Siri had placed a plate full of food and a bowl of triple chocolate ice cream (Obi-Wan still wasn't convinced there was even such a flavor, but the red-headed merchant they'd run into the other day had insisted it was the best available and Siri had gone for it).

"How was your walk?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin took a seat and reached for the bowl of ice cream. Siri intercepted him. "Hey, breakfast first."

The young man stared at Siri somewhat irritably for a moment before exhaling softly through his nose and reaching for the plate instead. He eyed the ice cream carefully, as if ascertaining whether it would melt within the amount of time it took him to eat the food they'd cooked.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, getting Anakin's attention. Well?

"Productive," Anakin said and then began to eat quietly. The couple exchanged looks, not really wanting to leave him alone but also not wishing to awkwardly stare at him the entire time. Eventually, though, Anakin was the one to break the silence. "You don't have it."

Obi-Wan and Siri both stared at him in bewilderment. "Have what?"

"That weird non-crying touch."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, even more baffled. "What?"

"I said-"

"I mean what are you talking about?"

Anakin dropped his utensil on his plate determinedly, looking Obi-Wan in the eye as if he were an idiot for not knowing what he was saying. "When… when people cry, other people somehow stop them by touching them. It's like you intrinsically have non-crying powers. I don't get it. But you two were both… both… well it didn't work. I was still… and it was… it wouldn't stop, and… you don't have it. You're people, you're supposed to have it, then I wouldn't have spent all night…"

Anakin shifted, flustered, looking down at his food. Obi-Wan and Siri glanced at each other. The expression on his wife's face resembled some mixture of amusement and confusion. Obi-Wan was inclined to feel the same way. What had brought this on?

"It's a genotype thing, isn't it?" Anakin questioned, looking at them again.

Siri coughed harshly, trying her best to hide a laugh, and Obi-Wan bit his lip. "Anakin, there isn't a non-crying gene."

Anakin's brow lowered until he stared grumpily at Siri, sensing her amusement. "Well there should be. I thought people were supposed to be good at that sort of thing."

Siri snorted. "Sweetheart, Obi-Wan's the last person who's good at handling others' emotions."

Obi-Wan threw her an irritated glare. The last thing he needed was for Anakin to doubt his ability to help him.

"I'm not going to kill you."

Obi-Wan and Siri both stared at Anakin, startled by the sudden change in conversation. He watched them intently. When he said nothing to elaborate, apparently assuming they understood, Obi-Wan said, "We know that. What makes you think we were worried?"

"Your conversation yesterday."

Siri raised an eyebrow. "You only heard part of it and then took off with all the wrong ideas. I thought you were more logical than that."

Anakin blushed, and the bond between him and Obi-Wan trembled slightly. Perhaps she shouldn't have said that. Before Obi-Wan could speak, Siri took care of the matter, also sensing Anakin's discomfort. "It's okay; you haven't exactly been having a great time lately. You were under a lot of stress; that makes people do a lot of things they shouldn't."

"I'm not a p—" Anakin started to say before freezing. Obi-Wan and Siri watched him with bated breath, waiting to see if he would finish the statement.

Anakin swallowed and looked at his hands folded perfectly on his lap.

The Force practically glowed between the two Jedi. It really was a miracle. Obi-Wan didn't know what to say or do next, though he could sense Siri had the inclination to drag Anakin into a Wookiee hug.

"Eat your ice cream, Anakin," Obi-Wan eventually said gently with a smile. Anakin seemed to sense the sentiment in the Force through their bond, and he looked at the couple with some softness in his eyes Obi-Wan had never witnessed. The young man took a deep breath, nodded, and ate quietly, the bond practically humming with contentment and warmth.

As he ate, Siri sighed and leaned back in her seat, her mood shifting as she thought about other matters, giving the young man a reprieve. "We need some new clothes. We've been in these for I don't even want to know how long."

"You are right," Obi-Wan agreed. "But we have very little money. It would be wiser to just see if we can wash these in the refresher."

Obi-Wan and Siri glanced at Anakin to see how he was doing when they noticed the bowl was already empty. Siri's eyebrows rose. "Good Force, you're not trying to inhale the stuff, are you?"

Anakin stared at her blankly. Siri sighed.

Obi-Wan rose, grabbing the dishes. "Well, in the meantime, I propose we meditate."

"We need to train." Anakin interjected, also standing.

"Meditation first, Anakin. We all have a lot to sort out."

"That's what walking does." Anakin emphasized, crossing his arms stubbornly as his face grew stony. "You should do it too."

"Well, I did offer to walk with you," Obi-Wan noted as he washed the dishes. Siri watched the interaction with interest. "You refused to have me."

"I didn't refuse."

"No, you just couldn't decide."

Anakin looked away.

"Let's try this," Siri piped in, catching the men's attention. "Anakin, do you want to meditate or train?"

"We need to train."

"No," Siri shook her head. "Do you want to meditate or train?"

Anakin stared at her. His shoulders tightened as gaze lowered, and the Force moved like a lake disturbed by a pebble. The bond between Obi-Wan and Anakin was still closed, but Anakin couldn't entirely hide his struggle.

Obi-Wan tried to help him. "Typically the best way to know you want something is to listen to what you think of first, what seems to excite you more."

"Something that makes my vitals change is something I want?"

Siri sighed. "Yeah, sweetheart, something like that."

"Then I want Padmé." Anakin immediately said, his mental defenses crumbling as his emotions started to make him shake. "And I want Master back. And I want you two to be safe. And I want the Rebels and the Jedi and the governor to die. And I never want last night to happen again."

A part of Obi-Wan riled against the statement about desiring the death of the Alliance, but he held his tongue. He sensed Siri's worry flare up as well, but she followed her husband's lead. Anakin had little to no control over his emotions, and his desire for the Rebels to die was just a response to losing someone he loved; Obi-Wan would be lying to himself if he denied wishing similar to the Empire the first few nights after Padmé's death. He would have never acted on it. Anakin's reaction didn't necessarily mean he was going to go after the Rebels and kill all of them… hopefully. Ideally they wouldn't be near the Alliance until Anakin had settled, anyway.

That aside, it was heartbreaking to hear him speak about Padmé… and Palpatine. Siri, on the other hand, focused on his other statement, and Obi-Wan sensed she was touched by the young man's words. He had to admit he was surprised by them, honestly, and he did feel a smile tug at his lips.

Eventually, Obi-Wan said, "We don't want last night to happen again, either. I never want you to be in a situation where you feel like you have to take your own life."

Anakin looked into Obi-Wan's eyes, his blue gaze soft and still like a lake. Obi-Wan felt him tug at their bond, but the boy still didn't open up his end. Obi-Wan's side of the bond had never really been shut; he didn't have enough training to know how, honestly, and it allowed him to be open for Anakin if the boy needed him. It was just a matter of Anakin trusting him enough to allow Obi-Wan into his own mind.

Anakin shifted. "Can we train now?"

Siri and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance, debating the matter, before they both smiled and motioned towards the exit. Training seemed to be a comfort for Anakin, and they'd let him voice some of his thoughts anyway. Anakin practically bounced out of the room. By the time the couple entered the staircase the boy was long gone.

Siri crossed her arms in exasperation. "You figure he went to the woods, where we trained two days ago?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "It's likely."

"What are we going to do with him, Obi?" she asked as they made their way to the unofficial training site. "I don't mean where are we going to take him, though that is a legitimate concern as well given the circumstances but just how do we help him? Last night was too close; I don't want that happening again. I'm no psychiatrist, and he obviously needs one."

"You expect him to actually attend therapy?" Obi-Wan nearly laughed at the thought of it. And then cringed. He wouldn't subject any psychiatrist to Anakin; the boy would either make them give up on him fairly quickly due to his sheer stubbornness or he'd flip on them in a heartbeat and lash out.

Siri seemed to share his sentiment. "Hell no. But that's just the thing—he definitely needs something like that, and he won't cooperate with the professionals, and we aren't professionals."

"Then I suppose we'll have to be," Obi-Wan shrugged; there wasn't much else they could do.

"So we just teach him how to have emotions."

"We teach him how to recognize them and control them. You were doing just fine in there."

Siri smirked. "As were you, oh mighty teacher. Should I call you Master Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

"So what happens when they try to settle our paperwork issue?" Siri asked, her mind drifting to their predicament. "I can't forge documentation. We said we lost our things in the chaos, but that means we'll have to go through an actual official process, and if they do any kind of identification test on Anakin, let alone us—"

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed. "We can't stay here much longer. But we have no ship."

Siri paused. "Anakin likes flying. I know how to jump start a ship without the proper access codes. We could steal a ship, and he would be able to avoid the authorities as we make our escape."

"Oh yes, that will obviously be inconspicuous," Obi-Wan countered.

"He'd know Imperial protocol about that better than anybody."

"Siri, we can't do that."

"That's our only option out of here, Obi," Siri stressed. "People can come to Ferrasco in droves, but you don't see them leaving."

"Perhaps we can leave Firro," Obi-Wan suggested. "It would be easier to disappear in more rural areas, and it would likely be a better environment for Anakin anyway."

The two resumed their walk, spending the majority of it in contemplative silence before Siri said, "In either case, we're definitely avoiding contact with the Alliance after his remark in the kitchen."

Obi-Wan didn't have time to comment before they happened upon Anakin, who looked rather impatient—or perhaps excited—as he paced in the woods.

"You're late," he said.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize we were on a schedule."

"We are now." Anakin replied firmly. His demeanor had changed once again, no longer emotionless but no longer unsteady and uncertain. It was also unlike how he'd been when he'd taken them training two days ago; then he'd been eager and a touch frantic as if he didn't have much time to teach them. Now he stood erect, his arms crossed, his face hard, his eyes boring into them, the Force feeling like molten rock, as if they were surrounded by stillness with heat simmering just underneath. "First we're doing a warm-up routine, then strength training, then lightsaber training. After that, we'll do some Force techniques and stretches."

"So we're on a full training regimen now?" Siri surmised, somewhat amused.

"Now that I—" Anakin bit his lip. Then he nodded.

Obi-Wan glanced at his wife before looking at Anakin once more. "Anakin, is there anything you want to talk about?"

Anakin shook his head, his eyebrows converging neatly as he practically glared in defiance and determination. "You have a lot to learn."

Obi-Wan sighed and steeled himself for the workout to come, and he felt Siri do similar, though she seemed far more eager than he. He had a feeling this would be a long day.

Their training started out well enough, with some brief stretches and then immediate strengthening exercises with far too many repetitions for Obi-Wan's liking. Both Jedi had worked up quite the sweat within five to ten minutes, and Anakin called for them to stop, which was a relief.

"Now we do the strength training," Anakin remarked.

Obi-Wan nearly gawked at him. "That was the warm-up?"

Anakin eyed him and then nodded. Obi-Wan groaned.

The next minute or so was spent holding a plank while Anakin literally leapt lightly onto their backs and walked on them like a bridge before hopping to the other side. Obi-Wan had to admit his patience was starting to wear thin, and he knew Siri was about to blow, but they both suffered the abuse as Anakin guided them through thirty minutes of brutal workouts before finally granting them a reprieve and providing them with water.

"Is this how you always workout?" Siri asked as she drank.

Anakin nodded. "When I have the chance for a full workout. Otherwise I spar."

"Against who? Palpatine?"

"Sometimes. Other times it's kata practices, or working with training droids, or Jedi prisoners."

Obi-Wan and Siri sat up rod straight. "Jedi prisoners?!"

Anakin watched them, suddenly curious and uncertain at the same time, but the Force also dripped with a hint of mistrust. "Yes… that matters to you?"

"Anakin, we're—" Siri was about to start when Obi-Wan put a hand on her shoulder, sensing Anakin's unease. He wasn't sure what had the man acting out of sorts, but he suspected Anakin might think they have a conflict of interest between himself and the Jedi. Last night would have proven otherwise, but this new trust between the couple and the boy was still forming. They had to tread carefully. As Padmé had beautifully demonstrated when she was still alive, loving Anakin didn't always mean trusting him, and vice versa. They needed to change that.

"You trained with them on Imperial Center?" Obi-Wan asked carefully.

Anakin watched him, probing his mind. Obi-Wan left it carefully blank. Eventually the young man nodded.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard. "Interesting. Don't worry, Anakin; we're not going anywhere near Imperial Center."

Some of the tension in the boy's shoulders eased, and he took a step away from them, the rough currents in the Force smoothing out.

Anakin eventually changed the subject. "Now we spar. How familiar are you with different lightsaber styles? You seemed to only be fighting with Shii Cho."

"We know there are seven forms," Obi-Wan responded. "Shii Cho is the first, taught to all Jedi."

"Shii Cho is basic, simplistic. Its focus is to disarm without hurting. It's only useful for taking prisoners, which you wouldn't likely do in high volume, which means the form is essentially useless. It's only a stepping stone, and you two are more than ready to progress."

"We've only been learning it for about a month, Anakin," Obi-Wan stressed.

Anakin shook his head. "That's irrelevant. You don't need it to learn the other forms; you learned the basics of any lightsaber combat and you're already fighters. You'll learn faster than an initiate. It's time you understand what's actually important and learn what's practical."

"What style did you choose?" Siri asked, curious.

"My style depends purely on the situation," Anakin answered. "I've learned four of the forms, though my strengths in each vary."

"What do you mean?"

Anakin paused, apparently somewhat exasperated that they were asking about him. "I know Forms III, IV, V, and VI: Soresu, Ataru, Djem So, and Niman. I excel best at Djem So and Ataru. My Niman is slightly exceptional, and my Soresu is passable. What do you know of these forms?"

"Soresu is a defensive form," Obi-Wan immediately said. As soon as he'd heard Qui-Gon speak of the seven forms of lightsaber combat, he'd immediately been drawn to the third one. He liked the idea of using defense to tire one's opponent out, to turn their own strength against them. It was far more preferable to killing anyone or acting in aggression. Siri, on the other hand, had gravitated toward Ataru, a more acrobatic and feisty style, as was her wont. Both Jedi remembered the basic principles behind each style, and they indicated as such.

Anakin nodded as he listened. "These are the forms you must learn. The others are irrelevant."

"What makes you say that?"

"Makashi is purely for lightsaber combat. You have no need to focus on it; the majority of your fights will be against blasters. Someday that might change, but the other forms are more than capable of compensating."

Someday that might change? Obi-Wan didn't like the sound of that.

"Juyo is… too erratic. It requires relying on emotion. It'll do you no good."

"Well, at least we can agree on that," Obi-Wan remarked, crossing his arms. He refrained from noting that Qui-Gon had said it was more of a Sith form than a Jedi's when used incorrectly.

"Soresu is a defensive form," Siri said. "Why would you use it?"

"Defense is a necessity when overwhelmed," Anakin noted somewhat reluctantly.

Obi-Wan didn't bother asking in what situations Anakin had been overwhelmed. The assault on the emperor's fleet was no doubt one of them; as powerful as Anakin was, Obi-Wan doubted he could best an entire shuttle of Jedi Masters. Apparently he'd been able to survive against them, though, which was quite the testament to his ability.

"I assume you've learned basic deflecting abilities against blasters?"

"You assume correctly," Siri answered.

"What about redirection?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, and he quickly added, "We need to learn that as soon as possible."

Anakin nodded in agreement. "Let's begin."

Pulling out a blaster, he motioned for them to stand. Obi-Wan and Siri stared at him confusedly.

"Where did you get a blaster?" Siri asked.

"That's irrelevant."

Both Jedi sighed heavily.

Obi-Wan didn't know how long they trained after that, only that Anakin wouldn't allow them a break until they'd successfully redirected enough bolts in a row to his satisfaction. By the time he nodded in approval, Obi-Wan felt both confident in his ability and completely exhausted. He was also starving, and he knew Siri was as well.

"We need to eat, Anakin," Obi-Wan pointed out. "That means you too."

"You'll have missions where you go for more than a day without food. The water is sufficient."

"This isn't one of those missions, and Siri needs nutrition," Obi-Wan argued, deactivating his blade.

Anakin glanced at Siri, who hadn't quite complained about her hunger but wasn't arguing against Obi-Wan, either. Instead, she sat, too tired for words, her hilt limply hanging in her grasp. Anakin furrowed his brow, and Obi-Wan could sense his befuddlement.

"She's feeding herself and the baby, Anakin, she has to eat," Obi-Wan noted exasperatedly.

Anakin's mouth pulled to one side in annoyance, and then he motioned for them to follow him. The couple gratefully walked with the boy out of the woods and toward the edge of the city. It had grown distinctly darker, and as Obi-Wan looked at the horizon he noted it was dusk.

"I know you understand basic Force techniques," Anakin remarked, pausing. "But there are some that are more important than others, and you must learn them as soon as possible. Before you can eat, you have to demonstrate some proficiency in the Mind Trick technique."

"Anakin."

"It's simple, you'll learn it quickly," Anakin insisted. "Most are susceptible. All you have to do is focus on their mind and force your will upon them. The move requires finesse, but you'll learn the subtlety over time. Initially it might leave them addled rather than have them listen to your command, but that's expected. Start with that woman."

Obi-Wan reluctantly followed Anakin's pointer finger to an elderly woman who looked a little dazed and was shuffling slowly across the street by the use of her cane. He immediately grew uncomfortable and looked at the young man. "I'm not using the Force on her."

"Statistically, she's likely to have a more susceptible mind than most. It makes her an easy target."

"We're not preying on the infirmed," Siri said firmly.

"Do you want to eat or not?" Anakin retorted stubbornly, crossing his arms and glaring at them.

"We don't need your permission to eat," Siri noted, making her way to the nearest restaurant.

Anakin stepped in her way. "Shall I do it, then? I can influence her any way I want. I can have her drop her cane and continue to walk until she falls. I can have stand in the middle of the street so traffic can hit her."

"That's enough," Obi-Wan immediately told him firmly. "You will do no such thing."

"Then finish the training."

"What's this really about, Anakin? There's no need for this." Obi-Wan countered.

"This is about making sure you have the tools necessary to survive."

"We've survived without these tools for over two decades. We can survive a little longer." Siri remarked stubbornly.

Anakin bit his lip, his brow furrowing.

"Anakin, what are you expecting to happen?" Obi-Wan asked, sensing the boy's frustration.

"He's not expecting anything," Siri piped in, taking a step closer to Anakin. "He just doesn't like the fact that we're not obeying his orders."

"I neither like nor dislike anything," Anakin immediately said, the pitch of his voice deepening with annoyance. However, after a few seconds, the fight seemed to drain out of him, and he eventually sighed tiredly, looking away.

"You like ice cream," Siri said, smiling as she stepped away. "Scratch that—you kriffing love that stuff."

Anakin initially looked irritated at the remark, but then he grew confused. "You can't love an inanimate object… right?"

Siri's eyes glittered with mischief. "Of course you can. In fact, did you know that there's an actual syndrome called credit fever where people fall in love with money? It's catastrophic if left untreated."

Anakin's eyes widened in astonishment as Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Is there a vaccine or something for that?"

Siri burst out laughing, annoying the young man.

"That wasn't funny," he grumbled, walking past her.

The trio made their way to the restaurant, and thankfully there was no wait. They sat cheerfully, Obi-Wan and Siri browsing the menus as Anakin looked at the first option and then sipped his water aimlessly, initially seeming bored before the Force grew still and calm, and he started to glance around the room.

"What are you getting?" Obi-Wan asked to keep the boy entertained.

Anakin pointed to the entrée. Obi-Wan read it and then asked, "Do you even know what that is?"

Anakin shrugged, his eyes piercing into every detail of their surroundings. His face was neutral, his body relaxed, his mind quiet.

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan prodded. The boy looked at him. "Are you alright?"

One of his eyebrows twitched, wondering why Obi-Wan was asking, but he didn't speak. He just nodded. That was his usual manner when he was actually fine, so Obi-Wan didn't bother him after that, though the couple eventually turned their attention to him after their food arrived.

"Thank you for training us today," Siri said with a smile. "We appreciate it."

Anakin blinked. "It's necessary."

Obi-Wan knew where this was going. "Yes, Anakin, but you didn't have to teach us."

This baffled him even more.

"You're not assigned to us; it isn't your duty," Obi-Wan explained, knowing why Anakin was confused; after all, the boy had indicated that everything one did was their duty, and that didn't require thanks.

"Yes it is."

"You're not our master, so it actually isn't."

"Yes it is."

Obi-Wan sighed, somewhat frustrated with Anakin's stubbornness.

"Why?" Siri asked.

Anakin suddenly was mute, but the Force churned uncomfortably. He didn't know how to say it. After a while, he said awkwardly, "Because it is."

"Your logic is astounding," Siri quipped with a raised eyebrow, taking another bite of her food.

The rest of dinner was spent silently eating before Obi-Wan and Siri began an animated discussion about the lackluster meals they'd had while in the service corps. Anakin was engrossed in his previous task of looking around the restaurant; apparently his default was to scan the vicinity for any threats. Eventually Obi-Wan stepped in, prodding the Force first to ensure his statement would be valid. "Anakin, relax. We're safe."

"You're never safe, not in unfamiliar territory."

"You slept well enough despite that," Siri remarked.

Anakin glanced around as if to ensure no one could hear them, and then he turned to her in an accusatory manner. "That's your fault."

"Well, you were the one who taught us how to calm someone with the Force." Siri pointed out with a smirk.

Anakin growled grumpily, picking at his food. A few seconds later he looked back up. "Why do people hug other people if it doesn't always stop others from crying?"

"It's a sign of comfort," Siri said softly, watching the boy with sad eyes.

"I heard it was a sign of affection."

"It can be that too. Hugging serves a lot of purposes."

"Hugging doesn't solve anything. And you didn't stop the tears last night," Anakin noted, crossing his arms and leaning back in his eat. "All it did serve to do was support me since apparently crying leaves you physically weak."

"You had a lot of tears to get out, sweetheart," Siri remarked knowingly. "That's why you were weak."

"Do they store up over time?" he asked, completely bemused by her statement.

Obi-Wan did his best to hide his amusement; he was certain the young man wouldn't appreciate it. "Emotion tends to build up when you don't have a release for it. You didn't have a release for nineteen years, Anakin. Last night was inevitable."

Anakin listened to his words closely and then gazed at his hands thoughtfully. "I… but I do have means of releasing it…"

"You were lying to yourself about your own humanity, Anakin. You weren't releasing anything; just bottling it up."

"Well how are you supposed to release it? Surely you two do so, and I haven't seen you cry."

"Obi bawls every night like a baby," Siri quipped with a mock sad shake of her head. Obi-Wan sighed heavily. Anakin stared at him in amazement, then suspicion.

"I didn't hear anything last night. Or the night before." He noted, narrowing his eyes.

"She's joking, Anakin." Obi-Wan nearly rolled his eyes.

"Then how do you release your emotions?"

"I oftentimes talk them out, either internally or with Siri."

Anakin blinked. Then he leaned back in his seat as if increasing distance between them and himself would eliminate that idea from their heads. He obviously was suspecting they would push for him to do just that.

He wasn't wrong. Obi-Wan prompted, "Do you want to talk about last night?"

"No." Anakin immediately said.

"Anakin—"

"No."

Obi-Wan sighed, and Siri tried next. "It'll help. It always helps to talk about things. Maybe we'll have a perspective on it that could help you figure something out."

Anakin remained tight-lipped, staring at them defiantly.

The couple glanced at each other, silently asking how to proceed. Siri tried a different tactic. "Okay, fine, we won't talk about last night. Let's talk about the night before. You came in acting very strangely. What was up with that?"

Here Anakin shifted, and Obi-Wan sensed worry flitter through their bond before the boy clamped it shut. "Nothing."

"Anakin, how do you expect us to help you if you won't cooperate?" Obi-Wan finally asked.

The boy finally stared at the table, looking defeated. "Possessing emotions is a weakness in itself. You want me to elaborate on that?"

"Why is it a weakness?"

"Because you don't think properly when you're emotional. Because you can make mistakes, because you inevitably will mess something up, because you can't serve anyone properly when your own feelings cloud your judgemnet."

Siri looked at Obi-Wan out of the corner of her eye. If only the Jedi Council could hear this.

The irony of Anakin's words didn't escape Obi-Wan either, but he didn't comment on it. "Is that why you suppressed your emotions, despite your father's wishes?"

Anakin continued to stare at the table, unable to look them in the eye. "I… don't know. It's been too long."

"You don't know why you fabricated this lie about yourself?"

"It made sense." Anakin ground out, suddenly angry, glaring at his plate. "I… I…"

Anakin took a shaky breath, trying to spit the words out, but it was almost as if his own body were fighting against him. Obi-Wan and Siri didn't dare interrupt. Eventually, he said, "I knew that… that I… I loved Master. I knew that. I've always known that. He's… he's all I had. Him and the… I knew I loved him. And I knew Master thought love was a weakness. And it was the only damn thing I felt. And it was wrong. Love is just so, so wrong. And all he ever did was… he didn't love me… he couldn't, it was wrong, and he wasn't wrong… so I told myself I wouldn't feel anything at all. I knew the only reason I was alive was because of my usefulness. So it made sense that I would be nothing more than whatever Master wanted; I mean, I already was nothing more than what Master wanted. It was a logical conclusion, and… life made sense after that, at least until Padmé came along, and then you two…"

"Love isn't wrong," Siri said softly but firmly.

Anakin watched them wearily. "Love is what made me kill Padmé. And it's what made me try not to kill her."

Obi-Wan and Siri immediately leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"I…" the Force became crushing, and Anakin grew even more anxious. "I… didn't… I didn't… I didn't want to kill her. I couldn't see her dead. So I didn't kill her immediately. I shot her in the abdomen so she wouldn't die before I had time to leave. It's one of the most painful deaths, prolonged for hours… she had at least three or four hours to bleed and suffer before they found her body. I couldn't watch her die because I loved her. Love did that."

Obi-Wan and Siri were stunned silent, and before they could say anything, Anakin continued, looking them in the eye. "But you… you love me, right?"

Siri exhaled slowly, trying to push aside the emotions Anakin's conversation had dredged up. "Yes."

Anakin stared at them worriedly, and Obi-Wan managed to slip some humor in as he also tried to eliminate his initial reaction. "We don't plan on shooting you."

Anakin gave him a sour look.

"Anakin, what you knew of love was an abuse of it," Obi-Wan eventually explained, ignoring the image of Padmé slowly bleeding out, her face drawn in pain. "You used your love as an excuse to blindly obey Palpatine and to allow him to hurt you. Padmé used love and lust to initially fool you before she herself fell in love with you."

"She loved the Alliance first," Anakin sighed, resting his face in his hands. "She loved the Alliance first, and I loved Master first. Her death was inevitable."

Obi-Wan sighed as well. The man was partly correct. But it was time they stopped opening old wounds. Obi-Wan and Siri had long since started the process of moving on from her death. It was about time they helped Anakin start that process too.

"She may be gone, but her legacy lives on," Obi-Wan said. "And though we will always remember her, we cannot let her loss crush us. The same applies to your father, Anakin."

Anakin snapped upward, his eyes locking with Obi-Wan's.

"You can't keep holding on to the dead," Obi-Wan insisted as gently as he could, but with some urgency. "It will only drag you down until you reach last night's point once more. We must mind the living. And as I've said before, I'm not saying this because I don't care; I'm saying this because lingering on it will do you no good, nor anyone around you. You know that."

"But you said you don't know if they care about what happens after they die," Anakin argued. "What if they do care?"

"You think you can still do your father's bidding, even after he's dead?" Siri asked, a hint of disgust in her voice, though to her credit, she was trying to hold it back.

"It's why I listened to you two, initially. It's why I didn't hurt you. Because I knew Padmé wouldn't want that."

"That's good, Anakin, but—"

"But you said I should disregard what they would want."

Obi-Wan bit back another sigh. If he backed Anakin's claim, then that might get Anakin to let go, but honestly, he himself had initially been kind to Anakin because he knew it's what Padmé would have done. How could he make Anakin differentiate between doing what his loved ones wished and not obsessing over them? How could he say it was okay to believe that for Padmé but absolutely not okay in concern to Palpatine? The only way he could do that would be to convince Anakin that Palpatine was wrong, and he didn't see that happening anytime soon. He and Siri had managed to crack Anakin's unshakable belief in his lack of personhood, but that was a lie Anakin himself had created, not one Palpatine had given him.

"Anakin… it's never easy to lose a loved one. I can't give you all the answers." Obi-Wan shook his head. "You can do what you might think is best, or what you suspect they think is best, but in the end it is your life, your will, and not theirs."

"But my will doesn't matter—"

"Yes. It. Does." Siri interrupted, brooking no room for argument.

"But I don't even know what I want!"

"You said it this morning. For heaven's sake, you said it just now when you were talking about Padmé!"

"I can't bring Padmé and Master back from the dead!"

"No," Obi-Wan immediately said. "But you can help me and Siri, and you can prevent yourself from ever again reaching such a low point as last night. As I said, you must concern yourself with the living."

Anakin sank in his chair, his eyes flitting back and forth between nothing in particular as he considered their words. The Force churned, pushing Obi-Wan and Siri back and forth in a strange battle with itself as Anakin apparently debated something.

"Nothing makes sense anymore," the young man eventually said. "Everything you say contradicts Master and the governor. Everything."

Well we're right, they're wrong, Obi-Wan heard Siri think, and he hid a smile. He knew she was smart enough not to voice such a blunt statement, anyway. "It's up to you to decide what is true and what isn't, but we can help you every step of the way."

Anakin glanced around, as if remembering he was in a public setting, and he sighed heavily, sitting up straight once more and continuing to eat in silence, his face slowly rearranging itself into a neutral façade as usual. The Force remained restless until the bill arrived, at which point Anakin waved a dismissive hand and said it was paid for. The waitress agreed, and the Force curled around her like an nexu's paw.

Obi-Wan sharply looked at the young man. "Anakin. You can't do that."

Anakin either didn't hear him or ignored him, standing and leaving the restaurant. Obi-Wan and Siri debated chasing the waitress down to actually pay for their dinner, but honestly, they were nearly broke at this point, and Siri eventually convinced a reluctant Obi-Wan to depart. When the couple returned to the dorm, they found Anakin waiting there, standing in the middle of the room facing the door.

Both Jedi paused side by side just inside the entrance, quietly asking if something was wrong.

Anakin took a slow, deep breath as if he wanted to say something, but then he bit his lip and looked down. The air was tight, the Force held still as the young man stood stiffly. Eventually he looked back up and took several slow steps towards them until he was less than an arm's reach away. His mouth opened slightly, either to speak or to catch his breath, and his deep blue eyes gazed into theirs, filled with uncertainty, but also with some realization that he couldn't verbalize. He took the final step towards them, and slowly reached his arms around both of them, hugging them. Obi-Wan and Siri stood there in shock for a moment before slowly returning the embrace and pulling him close.

After a few seconds, Obi-Wan heard Anakin whisper, "Thank you."