AN: HAPPY GROUNDHOG DAY!

Several people inquired as to whether or not anyone knows Anakin can use the Force. Up through chapter 6, he's interacted with a total of three Jedi: Obi-Wan doesn't know. Qui-Gon and the Master who met Anakin at the gate know, but they don't care. Anakin's too old to train and the Force didn't tell Qui-Gon that he was the Chosen One. To them, Anakin is an unfortunate Force-sensitive that is abnormally strong, but was found far too late to be trained.

Also, I am calling shenanigans on the hyperdrive times I managed to dig up online. Therefore, for the purposes of this story (and because I can) I'm making up my own hyperdrive times. So, yes, I know they are wrong. And I don't care. :D


"'Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night be too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'"

-Robert Frost


Chapter 7 Settling In

Obi-Wan overslept his first morning back in the Jinn/Kenobi apartment. Well, not really overslept, not by his standards anyway. But years as Qui-Gon Jinn's student had made getting up early a habit, and almost seven was his master's version of sleeping late.

Besides, now that he was out of the med-center, he had plans to meditate. Rolling out of bed, he tried to remember the last time he had, but he couldn't remember clearly. He certainly hadn't done it properly since before Naboo, and he desperately needed it now. He peeked into the living room, where Anakin was still asleep on the couch, before popping into the bathroom to get ready for the morning.

Afterwards, the Jedi stepped onto the balcony. Situated on the east side of the Temple, the balcony was deep in the shade, hidden from the dawn-light. Obi-Wan dropped a seat cushion from one of the chairs to the ground before sitting down on it.

Breathing out, Obi-Wan sank into the Force, intending to deal with the rise tide of stuff crowding is brain and his attention. Stuff he could no longer ignore with Anakin's constant presence. Did he make the right choice offering Anakin and Ms. Skywalker passage off-planet? How did he fail to beat the Zabrak? Why did he decide to attack a speeding bike with his 'sabre instead of using the Force? What if he hadn't wrenched his shoulder at the start of the battle? What if they had left the Skywalker's ten minutes earlier? Could he have won the fight? Avoided it? Saved Ms. Skywalker?

The Light swelled around him. A weight fell from Obi-Wan's spirit as he settled into its cool warmth. He relaxed, letting it slough off the rough edges his center had collected. His metaphysical self tingled as the Force scoured off some of the lighter scratches and dings. He had craved this peace. The Jedi floated for a moment, content to let the Force show him what it would. It danced around him gleefully, guiding it towards what it wanted him to see, reminding him faintly of Master Qui-Gon at his most smug. Intrigued, Obi-Wan followed and looked where the Force pointed.

His gaze landed on Anakin's Force presence, still fast asleep on the couch. He had become familiar with it on Tatooine—bright and distracting, loud, full of layers and contradictions, sparking with ambition and crowded with compassion and love, currently weighed down with intense grief. Obi-Wan would've been blind to miss it. But this morning, seeing Anakin through the lens of the Force instead of through his own expectations, he saw something different.

Anakin is Force sensitive.

And not just slightly, the child practically glowed, even in sleep. The Force urged Obi-Wan to look closer. Anakin's aura was unusual…Obi-Wan frowned as he studied it. With most people, the Force pooled around them in eddies and swirls, or they were containers that filled and overflowed with the Force. Anakin was neither. The Force wasn't in him or next to him, it was a part of him, literally knit into who he was. The effect was staggering, like a superbly embroidered tapestry or a breathtaking symphony, every bit was woven together seamlessly.

The proud part of Obi-Wan was irked that he hadn't noticed this earlier.

The practical side pointed out that he wouldn't have known what to look for if he Force hadn't shown him. It was too impossible.

The scholar in him wondered why Anakin was so different.

The worrier wondered what it meant. He tried to find out, deliberately using his affinity for the Unifying aspect of the Force to see what he could glean of Anakin's placement in the fabric of the Force. But instead of the feelings and impressions he was usually granted (vague and unhelpful as they were), Anakin's future was entirely cloaked in shadow.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?"

The interruption jarred Obi-Wan's concentration. The Force danced away from his reach, laughing, leaving Obi-Wan with a tension headache and no answers. Obi-Wan looked up to see Anakin standing framed in the doorway, wrapped in one of the blankets from his bed. His hair was tousled and his eyes were blurry with sleep. Obi-Wan frowned.

"I'm meditating." Was meditating, he amended.

Anakin popped down across from him, loosely mirroring his stance. "What's meditating? Can I do it too?"

The world spun slightly and Obi-Wan clambered for the internal control to match his external confidence. Being forced out of meditation too early always left him spinning.

But as he looked at Anakin, sorrow, or maybe regret, stole over Obi-Wan. The eager child in front of him was far too old to be trained, despite the quality of his sensitivity, despite his sheer potential. Even more, he was too proud, too fickle to be trained now, mystery future aside. Anakin was the kind of person who would be better off not having any training at all than having a smattering of it—and at his age, a smattering is all he was likely to get.

By an accident of birth, the most promising Force-sensitive in generations would never be a Jedi.

But he squashed it all down. "How 'bout some breakfast instead?" the Jedi asked.

Just as well Anakin was unaware of his potential. Just as well he was going to finish growing up in anonymity on a no-name, peaceful planet like Naboo. He'd be safe there at least.


"Anakin, just pick a channel."

"I thought you didn't care what I watched? You said you would be reading!"

"I am reading. Or trying to. But you keep asking questions and changing channels. It's distracting. Just pick something and watch it!"

"But there are so many of them!"

"I know! That's why I gave you a list to check. I told you some of the good—"

"They're boring, Obi-Wan!"

"You didn't leave them on long enough to know whether they're worth watching!"

"How would you know? I thought you were reading!"

"Anakin—"

But Anakin had changed the channel again. A show about fashion and style appeared, hosted by an overly painted female and her well-coiffed male counterpart. Both Obi-Wan and Anakin crinkled their noses.

"I temporarily take that back-you can change this one too," Obi-Wan said.

But Anakin was a contrary creature. "No. I like this show."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Really, Anakin?"

"Yes, I do! I—" he glanced at the screen for inspiration. "I—of course I do! It's—oh, look! It's the Queen!"

Indeed, it seemed that the show was giving the Naboo royalty a nine out of ten on their weekly fashion recap. There was no mention of the politics behind their appearance on Coruscant, just that they were better dressed than the Chandrilian delegation from the week before.

"And the handmaidens! Look! Can you see Padme? Which one is she? I can't tell; they all have their hoods on. Why do they do that, anyway? Their hoods look kinda silly. Is it a girl thing? Is Padme at Naboo yet?" he paused expectantly.

Obi-Wan blinked. Mentally, he reviewed everything Anakin had just said, trying to figure out which part Anakin had actually wanted answered.

"No, they won't be there yet. It's more than a week's hyperdrive journey from Coruscant to Naboo and they only left two days ago."

"But how do we know when they get there?"

"When a week has passed."

Anakin shook his head and sent him a no-duh-look, but he continued, undeterred.

"What are they going to do when they get there?"

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to shift. I am supposed to be there. He was supposed to be with his master, facing whatever was on Naboo together. The fact that it was his fault he'd been left behind chafed and a distant sense of personal failure tweaked at him. Absently, he rubbed at his chest where his ribs were still sore.

"I don't know, Anakin." But it's not going to end well.


"Bant, Anakin. Anakin, Bant," Obi-Wan gestured from one to the other. "Anakin, Bant has been my best friend since we both were in the crèche. Now, she's training to be a healer."

Anakin frowned and leaned towards Obi-Wan. "Your best friend is a girl?" he whispered.

Obi-Wan barely held back a snort. Bant almost giggled, but didn't stifle her cry of outrage, "You mean you didn't tell him about me?"

Obi-Wan held his arms out in surrender. "Of course I did!" But he couldn't stop his smile, which was probably why she thwacked him as hard as she did on the bicep. He winced in (only slightly) exaggerated pain.

"No, you didn't," she accused with injured dignity.

"We were building an impossibly complicated ship part!" he protested loudly.

"Don't be smug about it!" Thwak.

"Ouch! And then I was unconscious for nearly a week!" Bant had managed to hit him in exactly the same place both times.

Bant shook her head in despair, though her face was split with a grin. "And you've been awake five days since! All these excuses—do any of them explain why neither of you are ready for the swimming lessons that you asked for?"


"Anakin, this idiot here is—"

The man swept in, hand stretched out in greeting. "Garen Muln," he interrupted with an engaging smile. "Best friend to the ugly mug over there."

Anakin shook the man's hand, but glanced up at Obi-Wan in confusion. "I thought Bant was your best friend?"

Garen took offense and left Obi-Wan a bruised bicep in response. Obi-Wan didn't mind though—both of Garen's arms ended up black and blue.


Obi-Wan was exhausted. Physical therapy was keeping him busy, but it was Anakin that was running him ragged. To be fair, the feeding and care of the youngling was easy enough. Anakin ate what was in front of him, brushed his teeth the vim of someone who had been told to do so since childhood, and even went to bed when asked (though Obi-Wan wasn't really expecting that Force-sent blessing to last much longer). He could also be a lot of fun, happily tagging along while Obi-Wan gave him a tour of the Temple or staying up watching holovids and playing video games. But Anakin's emotions, which had been tiring enough on Tatooine, had reached a whole new level of stressful.

The reasons were obvious. If suddenly fleeing the only life he had ever known—terrible though it was—and suddenly thrust into a completely different universe wasn't enough, he was also dealing with the death of his mother. His emotions were on hyperdrive: he'd flash from happy to pensive to depressed to raging sometimes within the span of a conversation. Sometimes, he'd phase out almost completely, lost in thoughts he couldn't—or wouldn't—talk about.

Since teaching Anakin to release his emotions to the Force was out—as that would require revealing his Force-sensitivity—Obi-Wan found himself struggling not to vent his frustrations at the child.

Thank the Force caring for Anakin is not a long term project. This last week has been hard enough for the both of us. Obi-Wan thought. Note to self, don't take a padawan any time soon.

His eyes closed the moment his head hit the pillow.

His eyes snapped open the moment the door slid open. There were few people whose mere presence would not immediately wake Obi-Wan Kenobi up—Anakin Skywalker was not among them.

"Anakin? Anakin, what are you doing awake?"

The glow of the Coruscanti nightlife backlit Anakin, framing him in the open doorway. Even in the dim light he looked worried, shoulders hunched and hands twisted in front of him. Obi-Wan shifted, sitting up fully and rubbing his eyes. He glanced at the clock.

1:03

At least I got some sleep. Even if it doesn't feel like it.

The Force swirled around the room, a mix of exhaustion, fear, concern, anger, confusion, the emotions too tangled up to know which ones came from Anakin and which from himself.

"Anakin?"

The answer was a flying tackle to his midriff. The force of it knocked the wind out of him; like a constrictor, the arms kept the air out. Gasping slightly and feeling like a fish out of water, Obi-Wan's mind flew into overdrive, I'm not cut out for this, I knew this was bad idea, I'm not cut out for this! I'm going to kill Master for leaving me with this assignment!

Calmly though, he asked, "Anakin? What is it?"

Anakin was fevered—the heat from his bony body seeped through Obi-Wan's pajamas—but he was shivering. Still, he wasn't crying which Obi-Wan hoped was a plus. He honestly wasn't sure.

"Anakin, you need to tell me what's wrong," he urged. Good thing I'm in control of my emotions and there wasn't a tinge of panic in my voice, there. Obi-Wan knew it was a bad sign when he got sarcastic with himself. He tugged at his braid.

Muffled by Obi-Wan's shirt, the answer was mostly incoherent.

"A nightmare?" the man confirmed.

Anakin nodded.

Obi-Wan hazarded a guess as to its content. "You're mom?"

Anakin shrugged under Obi-Wan's arm, but didn't respond verbally.

"The Dark Jedi?"

Anakin burrowed deeper, telling Obi-Wan what he needed to know. Flickers of anger sparked through the Force again, though they were weighted down with pain. Obi-Wan reached into the Force, evening it out, snuffing out the sparks, while his hand smoothed out the knots twisted into Anakin's back. It worked; slowly the child relaxed, melting against Obi-Wan's side.

Obi-Wan didn't relax; he still felt uncomfortable. Someone was wedged well within his personal space bubble and had done so without consulting him first. The Jedi was not a naturally tactile person, but for some reason, Obi-Wan was letting Anakin stay and wasn't quietly ushering him back to the couch. In fact, Obi-Wan found himself trying to get comfortable, settling against the headboard, and carefully shifting Anakin along with him.

Hopefully he won't get a crick in his neck now, he thought, as he budged the child into a more comfortable position.

Not that Obi-Wan wanted to encourage Anakin's obvious attachment. But there was no sense in waking the child up after just getting him back to sleep. That would be rude. And it would make Anakin cranky all morning, and that wasn't fun. Really, dealing with a cranky Anakin would be far more uncomfortable than just staying up all night acting as a human pillow.

Obi-Wan didn't manage to fall back asleep (though his left arm did, smooshed as it was between Anakin's head and the wall), but Anakin didn't have any more nightmares, so Obi-Wan figured it was about an even trade.


"Whatchya doin'?"

The mousy blond head popped up suddenly. One moment the space at Obi-Wan's elbow was empty, the next it was inhabited by a curious child. A curious child that had made it his life's mission this morning to startle Obi-Wan.

But the Jedi was well aware of Anakin's nefarious plot. Completely unperturbed, he responded without looking up from his book, "Studying."

"Why? I thought you didn't have classes during this rotation. That's what you told me." Somehow, Anakin managed to sound accusing.

"I don't have classes right now," Obi-Wan agreed. "But I've been thinking about learning a secondary sabre form and this one seems like a challenge."

Anakin peered over Obi-Wan's elbow. "It's a bunch of pictures. How's that a challenge," he asked obnoxiously.

Obi-Wan tugged on his braid, reminding himself of the importance of patience. "These are the foundation katas for the form. It's called Soresu."

"Soresu?"

Obi-Wan nodded and returned his attention to the book hoping Anakin would suddenly learn how to take a hint.

He didn't. "That's a weird word. Soresu. Soresoo. Soh-reh-soo. Soar-eh-soo…."

Obi-Wan tried to ignore it. He really did.

" …Sora-soo. Soar-EH-soo. SOAR-ay-soo. Soh-raaaa-sooo. Soh-RE-sOOOOOO…."

But Anakin had an uncanny knack for poking at things. He could unravel in seconds the patience that the Padawan had spent his entire apprenticeship cultivating.

"…So-RAH-soooooo—"

"Anakin! Stop, please."

Anakin grinned. Undeterred by the Obi-Wan version of an outburst, he continued his questioning. "But I thought you already knew how to fight with a lightsabre. Why do you have to learn this?"

"True wisdom is knowing you know nothing," Obi-Wan quoted. "Besides, I don't have to learn a secondary form. For now, I'm just doing research."

"For fun?" Anakin asked with a deep frown.

Obi-Wan nodded, "For now."

"Sounds boring."

The Jedi almost felt offended. "You think learning a lightsabre form is boring?!" He raised a challenging eyebrow. "You were pretty interested in it when I showed you the salles a few days ago."

"Yeah, because they were doing something. You're just poking through pictures."

Obi-Wan snorted. "When the healers give me the all clear, I promise, I'll be learning this in the salles. Until then, I do what I can."


he was running, feet pounding across the burning rocks and loose sand, blistering them red and white from the heat—as fast as he ran, he couldn't get away—the man-in-black with the red face and yellow eyes was right there, reaching out and grabbing him and wrapping him in his black cloak, shining red with blood—

"An—"

Mom was there, shouting for him

"—kin!"

it was all his fault, he did this, all the red, the death, all this fault, all his fault, and now Padme was there, her belly torn open, bleeding red on the yellow sands and Mom's face, dark and accusing, angry that her own son had FAILED—

"Anakin!"

Hands on his shoulders, grounding him. Feet flat on the floor, a presence in his face, controlled panic swirling through the air.

It was enough to jolt Anakin back to the here and now—here and now, where he sat on the armchair, forgotten droid-guts on his lap, and Obi-Wan kneeling in front of him with worry on his face and concern in his eyes, his hands gripping Anakin's upper arms, grounding him.

"Anakin! Are you back?"

Locking eyes with Obi-Wan, Anakin nodded carefully, biting his lip. Bracingly, Obi-Wan ran his hands up and down Anakin's arms. The friction tingled, but it helped. Anakin felt cold inside.

"It happened again?"

Obi-Wan called the dreams flashbacks. But was it really a flashback when Anakin saw things that hadn't actually happened? Whatever they were though, they'd happened a lot on the trip to Coruscant and at while he was staying with Padme, but once he'd come to the Temple, they'd only happened twice—and neither time it had been this bad.

Actually, it had never been this bad.

Obi-Wan had been there at the beginning the other two times, but today he had left Anakin all alone in the apartment 'cause of his stupid physical therapy. He'd been gone when it had started. This was Obi-Wan's fault.

Why does he need stupid physical therapy, anyway? Like his shoulder's even hurt anymore! It's working perfectly fine now!

Obi-Wan hadn't let him come with him to the appointment. He'd wanted to leave Anakin behind! He said Bant or Garen could come and hang out with Anakin while he was gone, but Anakin wasn't a baby. He didn't need Obi-Wan's friends to come and babysit him while Obi-Wan was gone; he could take care of himself!

Except, what if Obi-Wan thinks this happened because I can't take care of myself? What if he's disappointed in me and thinks I'm a baby?

Abruptly, he pushed away from Obi-Wan, leaning into the back of the armchair, pulling away from the supporting hands. He didn't want Obi-Wan thinking he was weak.

Even if he secretly was.

Ashamed of that weakness, Anakin fixed his eyes on the wiring in his lap. He didn't see the gleam of hurt in Obi-Wan's eyes.

He heard Obi-Wan clear his throat. Glancing up through his bangs, he watched the man stand up, favoring his injured shoulder, before returning his gaze to the tangled wires. He completely missed the hand the ghosted over his hair, the hand that almost ruffled it.

"Do you want hot chocolate?"

Anakin shook his head.

"Alright. I'm going to make some for myself." Obi-Wan moved away from Anakin. He paused before turning the corner into the small kitchen. "Are you sure you don't want any?"

Don't go away! Anakin wanted to shout. You went away before, and see what happened! It came back and it was worse! Don't leave me too!

But he didn't.

Obi-Wan disappeared into the kitchen.


By day nine of his guest's sojourn on the couch, Obi-Wan had gained enough confidence in his Anakin-minding skills that he was willing to brave the wilds of Coruscant with his companion.

"What's the rule?" he asked, marching Anakin down the hallway.

Through the Force, Obi-Wan felt ripples of Anakin's annoyance and frustration. There was a huff and then, "Don't wander off."

"Why not?"

"Because Coruscant is not Tatooine and just because I knew what I was doing there, doesn't mean I'm safe here," he paused with a sigh. "Happy?"

"Enthused," Obi-Wan replied with an aggravating grin and a handclap to Anakin's nearest shoulder.

Anakin wriggled out of the grip impatiently—only to move back within reach a moment later.

In an arrogant tone, he commented, "Coruscant doesn't look dangerous to me."

Obi-Wan replied airly, "Of course, not Anakin. Speeders flying about at hundreds of kph, kilometers above the crowded surface of a planet aren't dangerous at all. And of course, the lower levels of the city are even nicer than the upper ones you've seen—you can get some pretty high quality death sticks down there. It's really easy to navigate, too. The various street levels and catwalks between buildings are perfectly logical."

Anakin made a face at Obi-Wan, who calmly ignored it, "It's a lovely city really."

They turned a corner and found themselves opposite at a large, overhead door. Obi-Wan punched in a keycode on the pad next to it and the door slid up, revealing a wide, duracrete room filled with row upon row of speeders in all colors, shapes, and sizes.

"Wizard!"

Anakin dashed off ahead, leaving Obi-Wan by the door to deal with tedious things like signing out the transport and finding out which one he had been assigned. Peripherally, he kept an eye on Anakin who magically honed in on the nicest speeder in the Jedi garage. The kid was circling it like a predator, eyeing it up and down like a true connoisseur.

His excitement was catching, rolling out through the Force and drowning out all echoes of his previous petulancy. And no wonder: it was a top of the line speeder, shiny and bright, molded for speed, edged with chrome, and clearly built to attract powerful and moneyed attention. Obi-Wan admired it for himself as he joined his friend.

"Can we take this one?" Anakin asked eagerly, all but jumping up and down. His hand hovered reverently over the hood of the transport. Obi-Wan could only imagine the levels of self-control the nine year old was bringing to bear to keep himself from ripping into the engine and discovering how it worked for himself.

Obi-Wan snorted. "I wish! This model is reserved for special occasions, mostly undercover missions. Since this is not a mission, or vehicle will be somewhat more…mundane."

"Mundane?"

"Boring."

"Oh."

"Cheer up, Anakin! I'm a Padawan—I assure you, the vehicle we have been assigned will be at least as unique as this one."

The Jedi lead him away from the shiny new car, past empty parking spots and vehicles ranging from shiny and new to worn to very, very worn.

Obi-Wan stopped in front of a very, very, very worn transport. It didn't have an identifiable color.

Anakin frowned, unimpressed. "I think I saw one of these on Tatooine once."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "I didn't think this model was that old. Still," he added, patting the fender, "it's well-maintained and will get us where we want to go. Go, get in!" Obi-Wan tilted his head towards the far side of the car.

"Can I drive?" Anakin asked eagerly.

"No! You can't drive." Obi-Wan dismissively gestured to the passenger side of the speeder.

Anakin stood his ground. "I wanna drive. I know how to drive."

"I have no doubt you do. But you can't drive on Coruscant. It's illegal."

"But I bet you I can drive better than most of the poodoo drivers out there right now! I can race a pod on the Boonta Classic circuit! I can drive on some stupid city planet!"

The man stood his ground against the growing storm. "Anakin, it's illegal." To Obi-Wan that explained everything.

"So?" To Anakin, it didn't make a difference.

"You can't drive because you aren't old enough. Most nine year olds can't operate a speeder."

"But I can!"

"Anakin, that's not the point—"

"Yes it is! Why won't you let me do this—"

"Anakin, it's not about me letting you, it's about—"

"You're just being mean! You just like everyone back on Tatooine, telling me what I can and can't do, and—"

Obi-Wan tugged on his Padawan braid, searching for patience. No sign of it; the virtue had long since fled.

"Anakin." His voice cut through Anakin's growing tirade. "You can either accept that I'm driving and climb in the passenger seat, or we can both stay here for the day." Ultimatum delivered.

Anakin glared, a dark, heated thing, backed by a sharp blur of anger in through the Force. Without a word, he stalked around the speeder, jerked it open, climbed in, and slammed the door shut. Obi-Wan took a moment to collect himself before following suit—minus the tantrum, of course.

They pulled out of the garage and eased into traffic. The cab stayed silent.

Patience, Obi-Wan. "Where do you want to go?"

Anakin shrugged, refusing to look in Obi-Wan's direction. The building they were skirting stopped and their lane of traffic rose a level. The skyline opened up in front of them, the Senate Rotunda visible despite the haze.

"Oooo! I know! Can we go visit Senator Palpatine?"

What? "What did you say?"

"Senator Palpatine! I met him while I was staying with Padme and the Queen and stuff, and he was really nice. He said I could come and say hi whenever I wanted to because I helped save his planet 'cause I built the hyperspace generator! Ooo, can we?"

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan paused. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not!" Anakin asked indignantly.

Because I don't feel like dealing with the Senate building and all its security today. Because politicians are very good at using children as props. Because he is a candidate for the office of Supreme Chancellor and visiting him would be taken as endorsement from the Jedi. Because I find it weird that he singled you out while you were at the embassy, even though his planet is in crisis. Because he's a politician and I don't like politicians.

But he didn't say any of that. It wasn't what Anakin wanted to hear. So he gave the child what he wanted, countering Anakin's proposal with one of his own.

"Because I thought we could go see the Museum of Aviation and Aeronautics!"

Anakin's eyes widened comically. "Aeronautics? Like, as in starships?"

"Aeronautics as in starships," he affirmed.

Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled: crisis averted.

Good thing distraction works just as well on children as it does on diplomats.


Anakin eyed the water hesitantly.

"You…you want me to go in that?" he asked the young Jedi standing next to him.

Obi-Wan laughed from behind him, "Yes. You'll have to get in if you want to keep learning how to swim!"

"But, it seems like such a waste!" The pool was huge—bigger than Watto's shop—and Anakin couldn't comprehend that the water wasn't for drinking. Even after more than a week in the Temple, seeing all of the pools and water gardens, it totally still freaked Anakin out. But really, this pool was much larger than the one they had used last time and it scared Anakin. Not that he would ever admit that, but still. It was kind of scary.

"Anakin, you had no problem with the smaller pool we used the other day. And I assure you, the water is not wasted. Not here on Coruscant. There is no shortage of water in this city, well, not any more at least. There used to be major problems with the planet's water supply, because there are so many people, which means they need to drink water and get rid of their sewage. And it got even worse once the towers began to hit the two hundred and fiftieth floor. You see, transporting water vertically is a huge drain on power and—"

"Obi-Wan, I don't think he cares too much about the history of the city's water," Bant piped up from where she was floating along in the pool. "And, I somehow doubt that you are going to convince him to get into the water by discussing sewage."

Obi-Wan did not deign to respond to Bant's comment, but he did stop talking. Anakin just giggled, glancing back between the two friends.

Bant kept talking, encouraged by Anakin's laughter. "Come on in, Anakin. There's no sewage in this water, just like there wasn't at the other one!"

Anakin walked to the edge of the pool with far more confidence that he felt. Obi-Wan walked next to him, lending support. He was about to dip his toes into the water, repressing the part of him that objected to the idea of putting feet in water, when he felt it.

He felt Obi-Wan freeze.

It wasn't a normal freeze, like when a person just stops moving. It was the kind that locked up all your muscles and stopped you from breathing and made your stomach and your heart and your head hurt.

Anakin knew exactly what that kind of freeze felt like, and he still felt an echo of it more than two weeks later.

"Obi-Wan?" he asked, grabbing onto the young man's hand and tugging at it. Despite the weight on his arm, Obi-Wan's hand reached up of its own accord and pressed up hard against his chest, the hand digging deep into his skin. Anakin tugged, trying to bring it back down.

"Bant!" Anakin shouted, his voice quivering.

Anakin stared hard up at the taller human's bleached face, vaguely aware of the splashing behind him as Bant frantically exited the pool. There was no reaction from Obi-Wan; his eyes looked like they were far away. A dripping Bant appeared behind Anakin, dribbling water onto his head.

Suddenly, it felt like there was a big GASP from somewhere and the tension was released from Obi-Wan in a big woosh, like a popped balloon, and it barreled into Anakin, almost knocking him back into the Mon Calamari. Obi-Wan stumbled slightly. He instinctively reached out to catch himself on Anakin's shoulder. The man's weight was almost enough to knock Anakin over, but Anakin stood firm and just managed to help keep the other man upright. It was hard though, the look on Obi-Wan's face bringing back all of the agony Anakin was only just kind of separating himself from.

"Obi?" Bant asked, in a quivery, whispery voice.

Over Anakin's head, Obi-Wan's eyes latched onto Bant's. Anakin heard her sharp gasp, before she reached out for Obi-Wan's free hand. The man jerked back, shaking his head in her direction. He released Anakin's shoulder, and stepped slowly backwards, like he was in a daze. Anakin thought that Obi-Wan looked like he'd been smashed and splattered across duracrete, like he'd just fallen from a million story building.

"Obi-Wan," Bant said, trying to catch his attention with her bracing tone.

He ignored her again, and knelt on one knee in front of Anakin. He grasped the child's shoulder and looked him carefully in the eye. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, gathering all his scattered pieces and stacking them back together enough so that he could talk without crying.

"Anakin. I want you to return to the apartment and wait there for me. I'll…I'll be back when I can."

Shocked by the force that Obi-Wan had put into such a simple request, Anakin simply nodded, utterly confused and suddenly terrified. What could have happened to do that to Obi-Wan? he wondered. Panic twirled in his stomach. Don't leave me alone! Tell me what's going on! What happened? Don't leave me alone!

"Obi-Wan!" Bant cried over Anakin's head.

The man stood up and looked at Bant. His face cracked slightly.

"He's dead, Bant. I…I just felt it. He's dead."

Anakin's eyes darted from one Jedi to the other in confusion, but neither was looking at him. The sheer panic-pain-terror pouring off of Obi-Wan, combined with the fear-worry from Bant was doubly scary because they were always so calm, so collected, so happy—

"Obi!" Bant reached both of her arms towards the man, but he stepped away from her, out of reach. Bant let her arms drop down to her sides. "Obi, where are you going?" she asked as Obi-Wan walked towards the door. Anakin bit his lip as he watched Obi-Wan straining to hold himself together.

"I am going to find Master Yoda." And then he disappeared through the doorway and out into the hallway.


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