About a week passed and they didn't talk about Cody. Time was lost through dreary routine and dreamless nights. A small part of Obi-Wan wished Anakin was little again, no taller than his hip. Anakin wished he couldn't feel a thing, so he resolved not to. He told himself there was no Sheriff, no fight, and the only person who was going somewhere this weekend was himself.
Anakin went into town after school to get a birthday present for Barriss. Ahsoka had informed him that Barriss was just fine after hearing he didn't reciprocate her feelings, and Anakin was relieved. If he could just survive going to a party, things might actually start to get better. Anakin wasn't sure what to get her, but he thought if he walked around in enough stores something would jump out at him. A boutique on the corner of the block looked promising.
A bell rang as Anakin entered and a shopkeeper with flaming red hair greeted him. Anakin smiled somewhat belatedly in reply. She seemed about his age. When the shopkeeper had moved on to organize something in the back room, Anakin relaxed and went to inspect the table closest to him, where jewelry was laid out or hanging from dainty display trees. Light from the store windows shone on the sterling silver and crystals, causing Anakin to frown. It was too romantic.
Anakin turned to look at something else when the redhead reappeared. "Are you looking for something to get your girlfriend?" she asked, cheerful as she came near.
"No," Anakin said harshly, and when her expression matched his he added, less belligerently, "I'm only looking for a friend."
"Well," she huffed, "You might want to try something next door." She pointed to her right.
Anakin decided he didn't feel like arguing or apologizing, so he started on his way out.
"Wait," called the shopkeeper. Anakin turned around. She tapped her lip, as if contemplating. "I think I've seen you before. Do you go to Coruscant High?"
"Yes," he said regretfully. Isn't it the only high school around here for miles?
She nodded, satisfied when the answer came to her. "Anakin. Anakin Kenobi."
He seemed to deflate even more.
"I'm Bo-Katan," she said. "So who's your not-girlfriend?"
There wouldn't be any escaping conversation now. Anakin sighed. "Barriss Offee?" he answered, in the way that asks, do you know her?
"Oh, she's popular," Bo-Katan said emphatically.
Anakin replied dryly, "I hadn't noticed." But he really hadn't. Lately his head was always swarmed with thoughts that weren't the present, which dulled the ability to notice how everyone seemed to fall at their feet for the graceful, gifted Barriss.
"Yeah, anything here would be suited for her. There's just a lot of art supplies next door, not really her thing, I'd bet—"
Finding an out, Anakin quickly said, "That sounds perfect, you've been a great help, thanks, nice meeting you!" and left the boutique.
It was Friday night, and Obi-Wan and Anakin had hardly spoken a word to each other all day. Ahsoka picked up Anakin and drove him to Barriss' house. They found a parking spot down the road and stepped out into the dark. The music emanating from Barriss' house grew louder as they approached, and Anakin asked, "Uh, Ahsoka, how big is this party, exactly?"
"Oh, with Barriss it's hard to tell. She's so well-liked. But don't worry," Ahsoka replied, squeezing his hand briefly, "I'll be with you."
They were smiling at each other when Barriss opened the door to let them in, a glass of clear liquid sloshing in her hand. "Hi!" she said, much louder than usual.
"Happy birthday," Anakin said meekly.
"Thank you, Ani," Barriss gushed, gesturing them inside.
Anakin ran a hand through his hair while the other held his gift for her. He had to raise his voice over the music. "Where should I put this?"
Barriss was pulling Ahsoka along with her, giddily, to introduce her to some exotic looking boys and girls who were gathered around the kitchen counter. Anakin was torn between tagging along and finding some place to look busy. Eventually he set the little box down on a coffee table and followed their weaving path through the pack of dancing, drunken bodies.
"Anakin," Barriss purred when she saw him coming to meet them. She linked her arm with his and announced, "Guys, this is Anakin. Isn't he handsome?" A few of her friends giggled at his discomfort. Barriss simply beamed at him. "And isn't he tall? So tall." She shook her head. "But I'm forgetting my manners. Have you had a drink yet, Ani?"
"Ah, no," he said, and Ahsoka winked at him and took Barriss' other arm.
"Let's dance," she told Barriss, "Like when we were little." Barriss made a happy, incoherent sound and chased after her till they were lost in the crowd.
Anakin watched with a hint of a smile until he felt the eyes of people he didn't know on him. He walked away casually, or in a way that didn't look like escaping, he thought. Anakin found an unoccupied seat on a sofa near the front door, away from the fun. He tried not to stare at anyone too long, especially when they were all dressed, well—not dressed much at all. A boy with fluffy brown hair and a black band around his neck caught Anakin looking and sauntered over, plunking himself down much too close for Anakin's liking.
In a gravelly voice, he asked, "You wanna buy some death sticks?"
Anakin laughed incredulously, before waving a hand across the boy's face. "You don't want to sell me death sticks."
"I don't want to sell you death sticks," he repeated.
Anakin grinned at his success. "You want to introduce yourself and keep me company."
"I want to introduce myself and keep you company."
Anakin sat back and crossed his arms. "Well, go on."
The Balosar blinked, the spell drawing back somewhat. "I'm Elan," he said.
"I'm Anakin."
"I know," he said smugly. "I'm always hearing about you."
"Really?" Anakin felt like blushing. "Do you go to Coruscant High?"
"Dropped out," said Elan, leaning back against the sofa cushions with his hands behind his head.
Anakin looked him up and down, somewhat disenchanted, but enjoying the sight of him anyway. "What do you hear, then?"
Elan turned to him. "Well, it's like the lovely Miss Offee said. Tall, handsome. Others have said…" He trailed off.
"What?" Anakin demanded.
Elan zipped his lips and threw away the key, eyes twinkling.
"Hey," Anakin whined, about to do something stupid, like pick up the pretend key when Barriss came over and shooed Elan out of the way. He moved over on the sofa, then stood up as Barriss glared at him, sticking out his forked tongue as he left the room.
Barriss situated herself next to Anakin, looking stunning in black but also not quite herself. She sunk her fingers in his hair and asked in a sultry voice, "So how are you liking the party?"
Anakin shivered under her cold touch, a result of holding drink after icy drink. "It's been nice," he said, and it was true until now, as she clambered into his lap clumsily, reaching for more of him under the collar of his tunic.
He snatched her hand up, and then nervously laughed it off as she was about to say something. He picked up her birthday present from the coffee table and offered it to Barriss. She smiled and ripped the corners of the wrapping paper as Anakin shifted out from underneath her, relaxing as he laid back across the sofa arm.
Barriss pulled a tin of Alderaanian colored pencils out of the box and squeaked. "These are gorgeous, Anakin!" And in her haste to thank him she dropped the tin and the pencils rolled across the floor. Barriss paid no mind as she crawled over him, lying across his chest and then kissing him on the mouth.
Anakin recoiled at the contact. "Stop it," he protested, pushing at her shoulders, "You're drunk!" He turned his face to the side as she chased his lips.
"Doesn't matter," she mumbled, holding her hand up, fingers splayed, and Anakin felt the familiar sensation of the Force keeping him still.
"Cut it out," he growled, shocked that she had the powers he did. Then again he'd felt her Force signature numerous times, dazzling and strong. It would explain her popularity.
Barriss kissed him again, sloppily, and this time Anakin kicked her with his knee. She stopped abruptly and slapped him, the sharp sound cutting through the throb of the music, turning heads, calling Ahsoka and Elan and everyone else to their attention.
Anakin stared at her, cheek stinging, mouth agape and then slamming shut so his teeth ground together. Barriss glowered at him, poison in her eyes making them no less brutal. She spat out, "What are you, gay?"
Anakin threw her off of him and onto the floor. Her friends gasped. Ahsoka was livid. Elan had a nagging thought at the back of his head that he should've kept Anakin company.
Barriss seemed to regain a bit of herself as she picked up pieces of broken pencils from underneath her. Anakin was heading for the door with Ahsoka stomping along behind him.
When they were outside, Anakin snapped, "Take me home."
"Whatever you say, Skyguy," she said crossly. She slammed the car door once inside it. "Did you have to make such a show?"
Anakin replied defensively, "What are you talking about?"
"Throwing her, Anakin? Like some sort of rag doll! She shouldn't have touched you, I get it, but you have got to control yourself," Ahsoka reprimanded. She started the car and drove down a long winding road.
Anakin felt overwhelmed with Barriss' words ringing in his head. "You don't understand," he said, panic edging his voice, "She used the Force. I swear I didn't want to hurt her—"
"What?"
"The Force, it's the power that connects everyone to each other and to everything else—"
Ahsoka interrupted him, "I know what the Force is, I just can't believe she did that."
Anakin looked hopeless.
"I mean," Ahsoka revised, "I believe what you're telling me. I'm just shocked Barriss would do that."
Anakin put his hand on his mouth and gazed out the window.
"And I'm sure no one is going to remember what she said. They're too drunk. She's too drunk." Ahsoka gripped the steering wheel mercilessly.
Anakin nodded. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The weekend came and went in an anxious blur. Obi-Wan made an attempt at conversation during each meal, after which Anakin would stow himself away in his room and hate himself for missing Obi-Wan, for being a screw up, for liking Elan. In school once again, Anakin did his best not to think of the nightmare of a party or of encountering Barriss in physics later. With his back to the class, Mr. Clovis wrote which symbols were common in literature on the board as Anakin heard snickering behind him. He turned enough to see Savage getting Maul's attention, and then Maul was sneering like he hadn't since that day in the bathroom. Then there were others laughing, a muted cacophony of heinous guffaws. Clovis turned around smoothly and crossed his arms, eyeing his students for the source of the commotion. Just as Anakin heard a rustle of paper over the snickers, Ahsoka reached over and pulled the sign from his back. She placed it in front of him so he'd understand, the saddest of looks in her eyes. Anakin read it and immediately wanted out—he was turning red from anger and embarrassment so deep that he wanted to die rather than kill someone. His fist closed around the paper with a crunch and he gathered his things roughly, followed by calls of "Anakin!" from both Ahsoka and Clovis as he walked out of the classroom.
His pace quickened in the hallway and he couldn't wait to get away, to just go home and seek some form of shelter from what plagued him. But Mr. Clovis wasn't far behind him, and when Anakin pushed through the main doors of the school, Clovis yelled, "You can't leave! Anakin!"
They were both outside when Clovis caught Anakin's wrist, hard, the same hand that held the crumpled sign.
"Let go of me," Anakin said, near tears. He really didn't want to do this in front of Clovis.
"You can't leave," he repeated, gently, in sharp contrast to his crushing grip. Anakin tried to pull away unsuccessfully.
"I know you're a good boy," Clovis said, "Just tell me what they did. I'll help you." Anakin's hand was shaking, trying to keep the sign to himself, but Clovis noticed it and pulled it free. He shook the folds open and balked at what it said. COCKSUCKER. In his shock he released Anakin's wrist, and Anakin met his eyes for a split second before he took the opportunity to flee. Clovis watched him go, and his shock turned to fury as he returned to his classroom, now bursting in uproar at the entertainment of the day. Clovis was seething when he walked in and glared at the lot of them, consumed with half-formed thoughts of how dare they and my Anakin. The room fell into silence—Ahsoka stopped trying to text Anakin and looked up hopefully, desperate for a sign of her friend. Clovis spoke menacingly.
"If any of you pull something like this again, there will be detention for three months. For all of you."
Impudent, Maul objected, "I'm sure it was just a joke." Then he snorted, "Even if it's true!"
"And how," Clovis countered, "would you know if it were true?"
Maul didn't get to answer as the class laughed once more.
Clovis supported himself on the edges of his desk as he scowled down at them, shoulders appearing catlike. "Be quiet," he demanded, "and put your heads down. Yes, do as I say." Ahsoka was relieved to not have to look at anyone anymore. Clovis picked up the telephone and dialed the school's office.
Anakin shut the front door behind him and scanned the family room for Obi-Wan, and when he spotted him scribbling something in a notebook on the couch, Anakin whispered, "Father."
"Anakin?"
Anakin strode towards Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan tossed the notebook away as Anakin threw himself into his arms. Anakin wrapped his body around Obi-Wan, tense and rigid, and Obi-Wan returned the embrace with soft touches in his hair and along his back. Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder, trying to hide. Obi-Wan pressed his lips to Anakin's ear and asked, "What happened?"
Anakin shook his head against the crook of Obi-Wan's neck in a crude nuzzle.
Obi-Wan put both hands on either of Anakin's cheeks and pulled him away to face him. He wasn't sure if it was Anakin's ability to convey depth of emotion in a simple look that made him feel like breaking, or the beauty in his despair. It was impossible to look away. "Please?" said Obi-Wan.
Anakin busied his fingers in Obi-Wan's hair, trying to organize the words in a way that wouldn't cause him to fall apart. "The kids at school, they… Well, I guess I'm not very mindful lately," he laughed bitterly. "They put a sign on my back."
Obi-Wan frowned, deep lines of concern creasing his face.
Anakin attempted to keep a smile as his fingers tugged a little roughly in Obi-Wan's hair. "It said something bad." Obi-Wan looked at him expectantly. "It said… Please don't make me say it."
"It's alright," Obi-Wan soothed, detecting the tremor in his voice. "You can tell me anything."
Always so understanding, so warm when Anakin felt he didn't deserve it. He was starting to choke up. "What's worse is," he said, "if it's true. If I am a…" He sobbed, "A cocksucker. What would you think of me?" He was wretched, wanting to hide again at the slight surprise in Obi-Wan's expression. "Would you still love me?" he begged, wringing his hands in the fabric of Obi-Wan's tunic.
Obi-Wan couldn't believe his ears. "Yes! Oh, Anakin, yes," he cried, pulling Anakin close against him when he went limp from relief. He kissed Anakin's shoulder, and neck, cradling him as he said, "What kind of question is that? I will love you always—" another peck, "— forever—" smack, "—no matter what."
Anakin stayed as still as he could, waiting for his sobs to subside, feeling like Obi-Wan was an ocean he'd like to drown in. Obi-Wan's chest rolled like waves as he breathed, welcoming Anakin in, a peaceful death. He was nearly there when Obi-Wan hummed something, nervously, trailing it with a quiet question. "Can I ask you something, Anakin?"
He raised his sleepy head and nodded.
"What upsets you about Cody? If not that he's a man."
Anakin sat up a little straighter in Obi-Wan's lap. Lightly, he placed his hand over Obi-Wan's collarbone and said shyly, "Well, he's bigger than you. Of a bigger build, you know." His hand drifted over Obi-Wan's shoulder and rested on his upper arm. "And he isn't a stranger to violence in his line of work." Anakin traced the ridges of the scar that hid just underneath Obi-Wan's sleeve.
"You're afraid he'll turn out like Ventress," Obi-Wan said aloud as he realized it. He looked up at Anakin, brows furrowed.
"Yeah," Anakin said, letting his hand fall to Obi-Wan's thigh, fingers searching for another one. Obi-Wan breathed in sharply. Anakin's touch was faint when he found the scar. He ran his thumb across the sensitive skin, up and down, and slowly from side to side, trying to make up for the anguish he caused Obi-Wan. Can I see them?
Obi-Wan was breathing rather shallowly. Anakin didn't really mean to send that thought over—it wasn't rational, or reasonable—and as Anakin thought about what a yes would give rise to, so did Obi-Wan. Without his tunic, without his pants, Anakin's hands on his bare skin…
"No," Obi-Wan said suddenly, gripping Anakin's hips and moving him so he could stand up. He lightened his tone and leaned down quickly to kiss Anakin's forehead, the boy now sprawled out on the couch, "No, sweetheart, Daddy's a bit tired." And he turned, to shower, or something, regretting his word choice, though doubting Anakin had any sense of how he made him feel just then.
He started for the stairs, calling back to Anakin brokenly, "Don't go anywhere. We'll… get something for lunch soon. Alright?"
Anakin watched him hungrily, craving his touch and comfort. He stayed there on the couch and closed his eyes.
Obi-Wan undressed and stepped into the spray of water, overwhelmed, too hot. It was wrong. Wrong! He told himself it was just a reaction, a physical response to nothing more than fractured images and self-denial. It had nothing to do with Anakin. Anakin. He was really remarkable. Unlike a Jedi in most ways, but in others, he was instinctual, sensitive, like someone had pulled apart his ribs and left his heart exposed for beating. Obi-Wan put his forehead against the cool tile of the shower, letting the water pound at his back. Anakin was suffering too much. Obi-Wan would do his best to remedy it. He turned off the water and wrapped a towel 'round his waist lightly, and when he was in his room with the door shut he let it fall and threw himself onto his bed, face up, just allowing the air to chill his naked, glistening skin. When he was dry and not a trace hard, he got dressed and made his way back to Anakin, finding him right where he left him.
"The phone rang," Anakin said, without opening his eyes. "Probably the school."
Obi-Wan sighed.
Anakin sat outside the principal's office while Obi-Wan negotiated his way through a condescending lecture on rules and behavior.
"Are you aware of the consequences of your son's actions? Of disrupting the order of this school, of resisting authority?" The words came from an aging, white-haired man possessing a deceivingly mild looking face, with a tone that was quietly entitled. Obi-Wan was quietly annoyed.
"Yes, and Anakin knows as well. Are you aware of how his classmates treated him?"
Principal Palpatine scoffed. "Of course I am. You insinuate that I don't know everything that goes on in this school." He paused, gravely serious. "You're mistaken."
Obi-Wan shifted forward, scrutinizing the man behind the desk. "Do explain, then, why Anakin is bearing the brunt of the situation? Are you going to let harassment go unpunished?"
"Unfortunately, Mr. Kenobi, it was impossible to determine who was responsible. So to answer your question, yes."
Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something incensed prematurely. Palpatine fought the upward twinge of his lips.
Obi-Wan took a controlled breath and asked, "What happens to Anakin now?"
Palpatine held his gaze for longer than necessary before answering, "Nothing. Not this time. But a second offense could bring a punishment most... severe."
Obi-Wan blinked, stowing the words away where he could address them later. It was strange, but Obi-Wan was willing to shrug off the man's unsubstantiated threats as long as he could make sure they never came to fruition. He stood and bowed his head, if only to feed the man's ego.
Palpatine extended his arm towards Obi-Wan as he said, "Oh, and may I speak to the boy? He is a rather unusual individual." Palpatine was dripping in unsaid digs.
Obi-Wan glared without reserve. "You can be sure I'll pass on your message." He walked out and looked to his left for Anakin. A handsome man was kneeling beside Anakin, fingertips grazing the soft skin of Anakin's cheek.
Moments Earlier
Anakin balled his hands up in the sleeves of his robe, sick of feeling helpless in this place. At least the school day was over and there was no one around to witness Palpatine's justice. Well, except for the one familiar person walking down the hallway.
Clovis kept a steady pace, boots thud-thud-thudding until he stood directly in front of Anakin. Anakin looked up at him for a moment, then deliberately looked the other way and crossed his arms.
"Your eyes are red," Clovis said matter-of-factly.
Anakin cursed under his breath and retorted, "Well, what did you expect?"
Clovis tinkered with his options and knelt beside Anakin. He rested his elbow on one knee before saying, "I wouldn't expect anything less. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you've put yourself under too much pressure."
Anakin faced him, considering it. "How so?" he asked.
Clovis smiled lightly. "The pressure to be perfect, for example. To be accepted by your peers, or teachers, or parents. It makes it harder to deal when things don't go your way." Anakin searched his eyes for any sign of deceit. Clovis continued in earnest, "I'm sorry for how my students behaved. And I'm sorry for hindering your exit. May I?" He held out his hand.
Anakin stared at him a moment. Tentatively, he uncrossed his arms and gave Clovis the one he'd seized earlier.
Clovis supported Anakin's arm with one hand while the other folded up the sleeve of his robe to expose the skin of his wrist. There was no bruising, yet. His forearm might not show it, but the underside of his wrist was not as tan. "I simply wanted to keep you from the situation you're in now," Clovis admitted, adding quietly, "I get carried away sometimes." Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around Anakin's wrist and squeezed just slightly.
Anakin's brows pinched together—he resisted pulling away.
"Does it hurt?"
"'s sore."
Clovis began rubbing Anakin's arm like that, up and down, just a hint of pressure. It might have been doing some good, despite Anakin's discomfort, but Clovis made sure to ask another question before Anakin could object. "Did you tell your father?"
"No," Anakin answered impulsively, nervously. Why did that matter? Should I have? I should have. But why does he care now?
Clovis set Anakin's arm down slowly as if it were broken, then raised his hand to Anakin's face, praising, "Good boy."
The door to the principal's office swung open as Obi-Wan emerged, features set just enough to exploit his irritation. He turned to Anakin and gaped at the sight.
Clovis stood swiftly and offered his hand to Obi-Wan. "Rush Clovis," he said, explaining, "Anakin's English teacher."
Past the edges of his temper, Obi-Wan rebuffed him. "Keep your hands to yourself," he replied. Clovis retreated awkwardly, glancing back at Anakin.
"Father," Anakin cut in, though he wasn't exactly sure why. He was relieved to have his father's presence again, but now Clovis might think twice about his proffered kindness.
Obi-Wan locked eyes with Anakin. Do not challenge me.
Anakin clamped his mouth shut and looked at the floor, lips pouting. Clovis watched, somewhat flabbergasted. He cleared his throat. "It's just wonderful to meet you, Mr. Kenobi. Anakin is—"
"Leaving," interrupted Obi-Wan.
Anakin glared at him indignantly.
"Come now, Anakin." Trust your father.
Anakin felt their bond warm, and he realized the act. Stern, protective, guarded. Anakin obeyed, claiming Obi-Wan's faith while he had the chance. Clovis stayed put as they walked away, jealousy the only thing keeping him from acting on his small triumph. The hand that touched Anakin's face still felt like fire. Maybe he would take advantage of it anyway.