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At seventeen, Anakin had given up hope that his Master would see him as anything more than an unwelcome burden placed on his shoulders. A burden that had forced him to grow up and adjust faster than he would've liked.
Oh, he understood the reasons behind the behavior well enough. It was also true that in recent years, his Master tried harder to be a friend and confidant to him. Still, the memory of their first years together haunted him.
Even now, he could still hear the tone in Obi-Wan's voice when he spoke to Master Jinn about him.
Obi-Wan had never really approved of his presence. Like everyone else, he thought that he was too old for the training. He had told Master Jinn in his hearing no less that he felt that 'the boy' was dangerous. And his use of the word had stung more than the way Qui-Gon had said it for there had been no affection, no gentle humor underling it.
His Master truly felt that there was nothing to be done for him, that they should have left him alone on Tatooine, and had only took him on as his Padawan because he had promised Qui-Gon that he would train him.
And the Council decided that he was too dangerous to be left to his own devices, especially when they found out that the Sith had returned. He had tried to convince himself that their feelings and treatment of him didn't matter, that he would prove them wrong and make them proud of him.
And he had a true friend and ally in Palpatine.
Palpatine helped him, in ways that the others never thought about. In many ways, he was the father he'd sought in Obi-Wan and could not find in him no matter how hard he looked. He always made time for him, always sought him out. The senator always had an ear ready to listen to his troubles and advice to go along with it.
That thought only worked for so long before the need to be accepted, to be loved, came over him. For the senator was never there when he really needed someone to be there for him. It never worked when the night terrors overcame him. At times like those, he desperately needed someone to cling to and no one came for he had learned to keep quiet when they struck, not wanting to be seen as less than a perfect Jedi.
And a Jedi showed no fear for they banished fear.
Or when he saw Obi-Wan quietly meditating on their patio. The way he'd look up at him, a serene and welcoming smile on his face. The gentle murmur of his voice greeting him and inviting him to join him in quiet contemplation.
Anakin lived for moments like those, rare though they were becoming.
Sighing, he pushed back the covers and went to sit in front of the window, staring out at the darkening sky as stars began to faintly glow just beyond the murky gloom of the city. Once the stars pushed away the clinging film of smog, he let the darkness embrace him before he felt like he was drowning within it.
The thought made him shiver momentarily before he pushed it aside as absurd.
He knew the night as no one else did. He did not fear it for he knew there was nothing in it that had the power to hurt him. Drawing his legs up under his chin, he stared aimlessly out the window, the dream still echoing in his mind.
Remnants of it reached out to him still, causing a shiver to rock through him, buffeting him under its intense waves. Closing his eyes against the light, he gave into the weight of the despair he'd felt calling to him. There was something unnerving about the light that hurt him.
Within his soul, he felt a craving for the night to ease his aches.
On the same level that he now recognized the voice of the Force, he knew that it was not right to feel this way. To hear beyond what the Jedi did. Yet, something was out there, something that wanted desperately to talk to him.
Yielding to it, he fell into a deep trance-and woke up from it screaming.
Obi-Wan bolted straight up in bed, his covers falling unheeded to the floor, chilled to the bone by the sound. Leaping up, he left the room at a run and entered his Padawan's room. Eyes searched the whole room, seeking out the source of Anakin's distress.
Upon finding nothing, he faced his charge, puzzled. There was nothing in the room or the Force when he searched that should cause such an extreme reaction in him. Anakin was not one for flights of panic. It worried him, especially the pale complexion of the normally healthy youth.
Carefully, he approached the wide-eyed young man. As slowly as possible, he sat down, not wanting to startled him. When the terrorized blue eyes met his, he tentatively rested a hand on the bare shoulder. "Anakin?" he found the name came easily to him.
It always did when he saw, not the Jedi Knight in training, but the young boy who had carved a place inside his life-and his heart, though he did not allow himself to dwell on that thought. The idea twisted his heart for he did not want to lose another person he loved because he was not strong to protect him.
Protect for him from his own caring about him. Pushing that thought away roughly, he saw him as the youth he had taken on as his Padawan Learner.
Another painful thought, may be, but not quite so hard to accept with his fragile emotions.
Anakin vaguely heard the voice and leaned instinctively into the half-hearted embrace. After a tense moment, the arms of his Master closed firmly about him, holding him securely to his warmth. One of his hands gingerly rubbed his back, as though afraid of how he'd react to it. Letting go of the dream, he relished the contact that happened so rarely in his life.
He felt…safe within those arms.
Protected from the darkness that kept hounding him. It did not burn as the light at times did, nor did it feel cold like the dark. He recklessly drank it in, feeling rather drunk on it, all the while knowing it for what it truly was.
He couldn't help himself, though.
False though the sense of security was, he let himself believe that Obi-Wan would keep him safe from the demons that plagued every one of his dreams all to often lately. It was the only thing he could do to prevent himself from going completely mad with confusion and roiling anger he felt at his own helplessness.
Through their teacher/student bond, he could feel the younger man relaxing and realized that he would soon be asleep if he didn't do something. And if he slept, Obi-Wan would never learn what had just happened. Though part of him wished to let it go, let the troubled young man sleep, he knew it was not the wisest thing to do.
From past experience, he knew that his Padawan would either deny it had happened at all. Or take his troubles to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. He knew that was partly his fault. He had not paid as much attention to him in the past as he should have.
There was always something else to do, something that came up and he just let Anakin and the full extent of his training slid by him in a rush to do what was required of him by the Council.
Still, that it was the senator that Anakin trusted with his inner thoughts, with his deepest secrets and worries, galled him. For no matter what anyone said, he couldn't find it within himself to trust the senator. The man reminded him of a large, greedy, poisonous spider, spinning a large and complex web about them all.
The analogy did little to comfort him.
Clearing his throat in an effort clear him mind, Obi-Wan tried to get Anakin to speak about his terror while it was still fresh in his mind. "What is wrong, my young apprentice?"
The words threw cold water on his feelings of well being, even though he had been expecting it to happen. I am only an apprentice to him, he reminded himself both harshly and sadly. Obi-Wan can't even bring himself to think of me as a friend, as a trusted companion.
Sniffing disdainfully at his thoughts, he shoved his feelings as best as he could into a small corner of his mind. His soul cried out from the loss of the comfort and connection it had felt only seconds before, craving them with every fiber of his being.
"Do the Jedi truly not dream?" he asked, half evading the question.
"It depends on what you mean by dreams, my Padawan," he answered after a bit of thought. Though he knew what Anakin was doing, he thought it best to let him compose himself, to gather his thoughts together. He knew that if their positions were reversed, that is what he would want.
He knew for it was he was doing at that moment. Dreams and their place in the lives of the Jedi were a tricky thing. It was not always a give and take thing, even if he often said to those who asked him that dreams pass in time. They did-but sometimes what one called a dream was often a nightmare or a vision as Master Jinn had been visited by them every once in a while.
Looking out the window, he contemplated the night sky. It seemed different to him somehow, an oddly ominous coloring to it.
Shaking himself a little for his unusually fanciful thought, he answered the question, perhaps with a little more honesty than he normally would've shared. "Most of the time, we do not. Before we go to bed, we usually meditate upon the day and cast our worries out into the Force."
It was a pointed, but gentle remonstration.
"Our minds must be clear for anything the Living Force may wish to reveal to us at anytime, night or day. We as Jedi have visions, not dreams. For as you know, dreams are the way a mind entertains itself, we do not need to be entertained in such a manner. But dreams can occur, although that is a very rare happening. Dreams teach."
"Really?" he pulled back and stared up at him, noting the way the moonlight threw his face into stark relief. It changed his appearance, making him look both wise and mysterious. Dangerous even.
The startling visage reminded him of how he appeared on some of their missions. That strange mix of danger and wisdom had helped them out many times.
He wished that he knew the man behind the serene looks, what had gone into the creation of him as a person. May be, he thought wistfully, I'll get some answers tonight. It would be nice. His Master was a notoriously closed mouthed individual, something that had continuously vexed him. But he seemed to be in an unusual mood, sharing his confidences easily with him rather than shutting down.
"No, I made that up to see if you were listening to me. I have to test you every now and again, wretched child," he teased lightly. Once he got a smile-albeit a very small one, he answered him truthfully, ignoring the slight twist in his heart as he recalled the experience. "Master Qui-Gon told me that after I had had a particularly bad night."
"What happened?"
Tweaking the braid affectionately, he shook his head. Though there was a voice inside telling him to confide in his Padawan, he couldn't bring himself to trust it. Even if it did sound like Qui-Gon.
Something else held him back. He ignored the all to knowing voice that said it was his fear. Fear of allowing himself to love his Padawan, to let him in. Because that meant to open himself up to pain, to the eventual loss of his friend.
Taking refuge in another, much safer thought.
That it was the feeling that, with that confidence, they would be crossing that faintly invisible line of student/teacher to that of friends. Obi-Wan felt it was to soon for them to attempt to cross that line. So, he discounted his strong impression.
And the intense feeling of disappointment that hit him when he did so.
"Anakin, this isn't about what happened to me all those years ago. That is ancient history, which I know you find utterly dull. This is about what happened to you."
"Nothing more than a bad dream," he said, shutting down. It stung him, this reticence on his Master's part to open up. How was he to feel anything more than a child when Obi-Wan refused to treat him equally? And he could feel his Master's reluctance to trust him in this.
"Are you sure?" he asked, not convinced by his words.
Oh, he felt that Anakin truly believed what he was saying. Anakin had that ability to believe anything he spoke. It was his faith in his own honesty that allowed him to be so full of conviction.
But there was something more to it than what he could feel through the thin cracks in his Padawan's mental shielding.
Something resting beneath that thin veneer of calm his Padawan had pulled about his mind. Something that he wished he could put his finger on. Anakin was disturbed about something important, that much was obvious. Why wouldn't he speak of it?
"I can't help you if you don't let me know what you need," he added, feeling the need to say something more.
"Positive, Master," Anakin shrugged off the concern easily. He firmly pulled away from the comforting hug and stood up, watching him from the corner of his eye.
"If you're sure?" he hesitated as he rose. He felt as though he had let the situation slip out of his hands and didn't know how that had happened. Nor did he know how to reclaim it. Still, he couldn't push him to speak, didn't feel that it was right. It would only further separate them. He could only hope that Anakin would one day start to confide in him.
"I am," he asserted. Straightening the sheets, he sat down, waiting to see what he would do. "Sorry for disturbing your rest, Master." He finished, noting when he just stood there.
"Anakin," he paused, studying his Padawan's face. It was too calm for his liking, to still. It was so unlike him, that he hesitated in accepting his words as truth. "You do know that you can come and talk to me about anything that troubles you, right?"
Nodding, he watched as his Master slowly left the room giving him one final, searching look. Yeah, he thought with a ironic twist on his lips, I know. But it's not like you really pay attention to what I have to say to you. You hear me, Master, you just don't listen to me.
TBC…