a/n: sorry it's been a while and this one is short. Good luck with 2020, such as it is.
He woke with a gasp.
Dark. His room was dark, but after-images flashed over his sight, pixelated outlines of victims burning against his surroundings. The future.
He pulled himself to the side of his bed, leaned forward to put his head in his hands before remembering he wasn't wearing his glove over his mechanical hand. It was always a pain to extricate his hair from his hand. He sighed instead, tired but tense. He gripped his right hand into a fist, watching the metal sinews shift in the dim light.
"It's not real." He couldn't help speaking aloud. "I make my own destiny."
For a moment, it even felt true. His fist relaxed and he took a deep breath. He could do this.
You know, when my father asked you to bring balance, I don't think this is what he meant.
"No." Dread doused him like a cold shower. "This isn't possible."
Simple, but effective. He could almost feel the Son circling him again. Brutal. I'm proud of you, Chose One. You brought balance.
His hands fisted on both knees. "I could have caged you, would you prefer that?"
So concerned about cages. Would our planet truly have been that torturous for you? It didn't have to come to this.
He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to shake the feeling of another presence in the room, a black hole dragging him into it. "Go away."
You can't get rid of me that easily. And once again, he was in that pit with the Son circling him. I'm curious, is that how you plan to bring balance to all the Force?
He ground his teeth. "You would have killed systems, your Sister would have enslaved them. You were too dangerous to be left alive."
True. We were both sure that we were in the right, both bound to devour the galaxy in a struggle to exterminate the other. How fortunate we were to have you. He could feel the sarcasm, seeping through the air. I feel peaceful already.
"Go away."
I told you, you'll have to try harder than that.
With a growl he slammed a fist into the bed, the Force flowing outward. "Go away!"
He scrambled up, turned on the light, whirled to examine the room. There was no one there save him, but he felt the weight of the Son's eyes on him, an echo of mocking laughter in his ears, and the bare truth of what he had done. He had had the chance to escape his Master, yet returned-a cage for a cage was no escape at all. But he couldn't deny his fear if the Force Beings fell out of balance, his fear of the repercussions through the galaxy. How much more power would the Master have if the Son killed the Daughter? He feared the Daughter too, with her blind duty and rigidity. He meant it-they were both too powerful to be left unchecked, and he would not be trapped forever, enslaved to their vacillating powers. Which left only one option. Had there been another choice? He wasn't sure. Everything was clouded. Perhaps the Son was right-Anakin was destined for the Dark Side.
"What have I done?" he whispered into the empty space, head pounding, eyes itching.
A light tap, and the door behind him opened with a whoosh. "Is everything alright, sir?" C-3PO's proper tones sliced through his craze for a moment.
He allowed himself to relax against the wall, thumping solidly on the durasteel. "I'm fine, 3PO." He mind was still tinged with the Son, but that was fine. He would be fine. "What's for breakfast?"
"Pardon me sir, but the Chancellor has asked to meet with you as soon as possible." Anakin sighed, and 3PO twisted to look at him, shuffled closer to rotate a hinged arm onto Anakin's arm, then retreated to the doorway. "I'm sorry, sir."
Anakin had leaned his head back when 3PO added, "Might I suggest some blue milk?"
Anakin snorted. "Sure, 3PO. I'll be out in a moment." A sigh, and he resigned himself to meeting with his Master. There was still time.
"Ah, Anakin. How good of you to join us." Dooku saw Palpatine's face light up with the greeting, grinning at the doorway with that sickly, fatherly face he affected. The Count wasn't one for sentiment, didn't care to paint it on like Palpatine. Except for Obi-Wan and Ventress, he supposed.
"Apologies, Master, for my tardiness." The boy took a knee to the ground, hands placed on top of the other knee.
"I was surprised the message didn't go straight to you." Palpatine's eyes narrowed. "Make sure it does not happen again."
"Of course, Master." The boy bowed his head, contrite. "I'm sorry, Master."
"No matter." The Chancellor strode between the two, hands clasped behind his back, looking out of the window of this derelict factory, one of the few places on Coruscant that Dooku could meet with them in person. For those rare occasions when a holo just wouldn't do. "I called you both here to discuss my final plans for the end of this war."
"Already?" the boy asked, head yanking up in shock.
"How the time flies." Dooku couldn't help the dryness in his tone. This slave would be the death of him, the silly boy.
"Enough." Palpatine flicked a hand at them, a pale thing at the end of his ridiculous red sleeves. "I will tell you what I have foreseen."
Very little of it was a surprise to Dooku, excluding the push on Coruscant. He thought that plan had been abandoned. Anakin started a few times, given away by his clenching hands. Still a miasma of emotion. Dooku sighed. For all his training, Anakin remained wild. He would never have made it as a Jedi. But the Chancellor encouraged the boy.
And Dooku needed him. For now.
When their Master dismissed them, he accompanied the boy down a corridor, abreast of the boy, close enough to unsettle him. "I trust our little problem has been resolved?"
"Good to see you too, Count."
"Don't be flippant, boy. I have little time." He needed to regroup the fleet to make the impending attack on Coruscant believable, and the logistics of "capturing" the Chancellor. It was not the most streamlined of his Master's plans, but Dooku was appeased. Soon, the corruption of the Senate would be ashes in the wind. "What have you discovered?"
They turned a corner. "The eavesdropper knew the Rodian was there for blackmail, but didn't obtain any information."
"I see." Dooku halted to scrutinize his companion. Anakin had gotten better at shielding his thoughts, and his face was set in his pleasant but guarded expression he generally wore around the Count. Almost impossible to read. The Count turned to retrace his steps back to his ship, not particularly worried, but it never hurt to put the boy in his place. "If any information does get out, I am holding you responsible."
"Of course." Anakin smiled stiffly in response and Dooku left him, mind already plotting how to supplement his Master's plan. They were on the verge of greatness.