Chapter 4

A week after attending the pod races with Obi-Wan, Anakin felt himself becoming restless again. And since he knew from having lunch with him earlier in the day that Obi-Wan was tied up in a diplomatic dinner this evening, he was essentially on his own.

He decided to find some fun and excitement on the lower levels of Coruscant.

Anakin opted to disguise his appearance in civilian clothing, but he did conceal his lightsaber on his person just in case. He walked along the crowded walkways in front of every type of establishment for vice that one could think of-bars, casinos, sports palaces, spice dens, and sex clubs. Each one looked more unsavory than the last. Anakin tried to keep an open mind. He was after all looking for something exciting to do.

When he paused in front of a place called Parin's Pugilist Pleasures, he could hear the roar of a predominantly male crowd. Intrigued, he stepped inside the door, waving the bouncer off with the Force. The smell of sweat, blood, spice, and men hit him with a powerful punch. He staggered a little as memories were conjured by these smells.

He saw Clone troopers bleeding on distant planets. He heard the yell of pilots who were facing certain doom but still cried out through the com until they disappeared in a flash of explosion. And the smells-burning flesh, festering wounds, the fear before a battle. Anakin had to hold his head and shake it a few times to clear his vision. Luckily, the place was dark enough and crowded enough that no one paid him any mind.

When he felt less foggy, he began to survey the inside of the room. It didn't take him long to realize the reason it was so dark was because the main attraction had all the spotlights trained on it. And 'it' was a spot in the middle of the crowd marked off by no barriers other than the people who created its perimeter. It could have existed in any spot in the room, but Anakin sensed that it was always just there.

He began weaving his way through the other onlookers to get to the ring. He was taller than most of the humans, but several of the aliens towered over him too. He jostled for position until he had a clear view. Using the Force to create just a little space where no one but he could stand, he crossed his arms and observed.

The two beings in the ring were stripped of all clothing to the waist. The heat of the lights, in addition to their exertion, had sweat dripping down their skin everywhere. The one who had any hair pushed it out of his face, and Anakin could see liquid drops spray from the motion. Then he saw the blood.

The floor was nearly covered in it. He had obviously come lately to this event-or series of events. This was not the first match. Anakin had learned to judge the amount of blood spilled in an area during his time in the war. And here he judged that at least a dozen pairs had fought and bled for the appreciation of this crowd. He closed his eyes briefly against the smells and memories that threatened to overtake him again.

When he opened them again, he watched the final blow. The creature with no hair, but plenty of scales, wolloped the other guy and turned to collect his raucous applause from the eager crowd. The loser was drug away to some shadowy corner for what fate, Anakin knew not.

As soon as the ring was cleared of these two, another pair took their place. This continued unabated for the next hour as Anakin watched, studied, pondered, and slowly became intoxicated by the atmosphere. By the time he had figured out how to enter himself into the competition, he felt as electric as a power coupling and as invincible as the Chosen One.

Anakin won his first fight handily-to the disappointment of the crowd. Someone pulled him aside as the other guy was carted off to the dark.

"Hey, man," he growled. "No one's going to make any money off you if you finish them too quickly. Make it look like they've got a chance. Give the guys some time to place some bets on your opponent, and then you'll really clean up."

Anakin thought about this advice. He wasn't here to make any money. He didn't need it. What he needed was the rush of the fight. The challenge and the danger. He needed to feel alive. It was what had been missing the past few months. And now that he had it back, he wasn't about to let it go.

Anakin started to become a regular. Night after night he would fight three, sometimes four, times. Each time he drew it out a little longer, let the other guy get in a few shots. Sometimes this was a mistake if the other guy drew his blood or otherwise marked him. He didn't want to have anything visibly wrong with him for the next day at the Temple. But you can't control what happens in a fist fight.

And that's how Anakin got his nose broken.

Obi-Wan stood restlessly at Anakin's front door. He had been ringing for two minutes with no response. Is he sleeping again, he wondered. Surely he hasn't forgotten our lunch plans.

When the door opened, Obi-Wan forgot completely about lunch, about waiting, and about the box he was holding.

"Anakin!" he exclaimed. "What happened?" He reached up automatically to place his hands on either side of Anakin's face, turning him into the light for a better look. Obi-Wan could tell that the injury was fairly new, although bruising had settled into his cheeks indicating at least twenty-four hours' lapse since the nose was broken.

"Have you seen the Healers?" he asked anxiously. "What did they say?" He had not let Anakin's face go yet, and every question brought his face closer to the young man's.

Anakin began backing up into the apartment to get Obi-Wan out of the corridor. When the door finally closed behind his former Master, Anakin spoke. "It's fine. I set it."

Obi-Wan frowned. He set it himself? Why? The Master found himself hoping that Anakin's nose didn't change in appearance too much. I like his nose as it is, he thought.

They continued their strange march across the carpet, Obi-Wan unwilling to let go of Anakin's face. But when the back of Anakin's legs his the couch, he dropped to it and out of his Master's grip. Obi-Wan felt like he didn't know what to do with his hands anymore. He sat in a chair opposite Anakin and just studied the young man.

He had on a light sleep shirt and pants, but Obi-Wan's keen eyesight picked out other signs of injury. Anakin was unconsciously cradling his ribs in a way that Obi-Wan had seen many times before. And there was more bruising and torn skin visible on his knuckles.

Obi-Wan sat back in the chair. He suddenly felt a very strong sensation. He felt . . . angry. He crossed his arms and waited to see what would happen next.

Anakin watched his Master watch him. He knew Obi-Wan was piecing it together. That was why he had avoided Obi-Wan for a few days. These past couple nights had seen some new creatures come to the fight club just to challenge him. In the end, he had prevailed, but they had challenged him more than those in the past. He had hoped to avoid seeing almost anyone until the swelling at least had gone down.

Anakin weighed the possibility of making up a story to explain the broken nose. But as Obi-Wan raked him with his all-seeing eyes, Anakin knew it was hopeless to even try. He already knew. "So . . ." Anakin began.

"Really, Anakin? Is this the only way you can think to spend your time?" Obi-Wan cut him off in more ways than one.

Instantly, Anakin was defensive. "Stay out of it, Obi-Wan. It doesn't concern you. I'm not your Padawan anymore."

"You will always be my Padawan and my responsibility, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a quiet rage that actually spoke to Anakin more than the words did. Why did Obi-Wan care so much anyway? It wasn't like they were at war anymore. He wasn't hurting anyone else. He wasn't shirking his Jedi duty. What was the big deal?

Obi-Wan continued in his controlled tone, "This is what I was afraid of. What I tried to talk to you about. Your need for a thrill, for excitement. Couldn't you find something . . . else?" He was at a loss for what to suggest. What could keep Anakin on the straight and narrow path of self-preservation and dignity?

Anakin fought back his angry reply. Obi-Wan had never understood this part of him. His Master might be happy reading a book and sipping tea, but that wasn't Anakin. He tried the same response again, "Stay out of it. Please."

This time, Obi-Wan threw himself to his feet and turned away from the younger man. He couldn't stand to look at the painful break in the center of his face. Plus, it just made him feel helpless. He couldn't prevent this; he couldn't stop Anakin from seeking out vice. His anger ebbed as desperation and sadness took its place.

"What about me?" he asked in a whisper.

Anakin wasn't sure he had heard right. "What about you?" he asked, perplexed and irritated.

"It hurts me to see you hurt," Obi-Wan elaborated, still facing away from Anakin. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, willing away the extra moisture he felt in them. Before Anakin could answer him-because he was afraid to hear the answer-he stumbled to the front door. He quickly walked down the hallway and around the corner.

Anakin followed him as far as his front door. He spotted something on the floor and picked it up. A box of his favorite chocolates. Obi-Wan had dropped them earlier and forgotten them completely. Anakin popped one in his mouth and went back to his couch.

As he chewed, he tried not to move his nose. A difficult task, but it did allow him to focus on something other than his anger. By the time he had eaten half the box, he stopped mid-chew with the realization that Obi-Wan had demonstrated some serious emotions that evening.

He had clearly been angry. And overly concerned about a simple broken nose. And then he had expressed what? Sadness? Again, Anakin couldn't figure the why. What was wrong with his friend? He was acting so strange lately.

First there was the incident with the child. Then the dinner in civvies. The strange conversation about the future. His warning about thrill-seeking. His enthusiasm for pod racing of all things. Now, he shows up with chocolate, throws a fit, and storms out? What the kriff?

Well, my nose hurts too much to worry about this tonight, he decided. I'm staying in and watching something pointless on the HoloNet. And he settled in with the rest of his chocolate.

"Hold still," Obi-Wan commanded as he looked closely at Anakin's bruises. He dabbed bacta on the purple splotches and frowned.

The Master had shown up the following morning armed with medical supplies and a contrite expression. "You don't need any more scars," he pronounced as an explanation for his appearance. Anakin had been too sleepy to argue. He traipsed back to his bedroom and stretched out in resignation. What difference did it matter if Obi-Wan wanted to play healer for a few minutes?

Anakin relaxed into his mattress as Obi-Wan continued his ministrations. His thoughts drifted back to when this sort of thing was a common occurrence. The war. Everything seemed to always come back to it.

Obi-Wan too was indulging in memories as he cleaned, inspected, shook his head, and determined to keep going. Anakin's body had so many reminders of the war already. Why would he want more damage? "You know," he began as he worked. "There was a time when we tried to avoid getting injured like this." His raised eyebrow fell on closed eyes. Anakin just grunted.

Rather unnecessarily, Obi-Wan ran his hands down Anakin's chest, ostensibly checking for cracked ribs, but really he was just taking his time re-connecting with Anakin in a way he used to take for granted. He didn't enjoy looking for injuries-no, that was never it. He liked the contact, the feel of someone else's skin against his. He sighed just a little. "Better?" he queried.

Anakin cracked an eyelid. "Sure," he agreed automatically. He took in Obi-Wan's posture, a little slumped but definitely thoughtful.

"I miss this," Obi-Wan confessed. He looked up to catch Anakin's gaze.

Anakin smirked. "Well, then, I'll head out again tonight . . ." he began.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I don't miss you being injured. Of course not. But I miss the clarity of life that we had back then. The split-second decisions that held the conviction of righteousness. I've forgotten how to live in the shades of grey that are peace." As he spoke, he warmed to his subject. What he didn't say though was what he missed most. His missed Anakin. And it was hard to know that the young man didn't feel the same.

Anakin felt the need to fill the air with something after Obi-Wan's speech. "Um," he began and thought brilliant to himself. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he lied. He missed the rush. He missed the feeling of saving lives. He didn't deal with the complexities of moral code that Obi-Wan did on the Council-thank the Force. He really didn't need the stress.

And right now, he just wanted Obi-Wan to finish up and let him go back to sleep. He was so obvious about it that Obi-Wan didn't even need the Force insight to pack up the bacta and bandages and stand up from the side of the bed. "Sure you do," he said sarcastically although softly. Anakin rolled over away from his former Master before Obi-Wan even left the room.

Just before departing, Obi-Wan reached through the Force to test Anakin's mental shields. They were as strong as ever, with just a bit of emotion leaking out. Obi-Wan felt annoyance, impatience-all the things that usually emanated from the young man. No, he thought, nothing unusual there.

And he turned and left.

A few nights later, Anakin knew that he needed an outlet. He had to seek out the pugilist club again, or he was going to do some serious Force-damage to the next Padawan who tried to corner him and bask in his fame. Was I that obnoxious at that age, he wondered. Then he chuckled to himself because he knew he was more. Ah, well, the folly of youth and all, he consoled himself.

He dressed in dark civilian clothing and left his lightsaber behind, as had become his habit. In all the times he had ventured to this dank establishment, he had never encountered anything he couldn't handle without it. Not like during the war.

The Clone Wars had taught Anakin that even the friendliest of strangers could immediately turn on you when it suited them. Only actions proved loyalty, not words. And not knowing the attachments that a stranger harbored-family, clan, friends-was the most dangerous position to find oneself in. The threat could be hundreds of kilometers away, but he'd never know about it before the consequences were visited on his person. Seppies threatened your dear old grandmother on the other side of the planet? Gee, I haven't heard that one before.

He shook his head to clear the encroaching thoughts. He didn't need more stress today. He needed to let off some steam. He briefly wondered where Rex was and what he was doing these days to deal with stress. Anakin had always wondered what it would have been like to have the time to train Rex to use a lightsaber. He'd never have rivaled Anakin due to his lack of Force-sensitivity, but the Jedi suspected the Clone Captain could have made up for that with inventiveness and cunning.

Anakin smiled at that thought. Perhaps he'd comm Rex tomorrow and find out where he was.

But for now, he needed to keep his head focussed on his opponents. He stood outside of the ring of light for a while sizing up the crowd and looking for new meat. He spotted one who looked likely. He was hulking, depending on his size and musculature alone probably to subdue an opponent. Anakin made it a personal guideline not to use the Force during his matches. He liked to win on his own physical merits for a change.

The match was over in mere minutes. Anakin was a vision of graceful violence. The other man barely landed a blow to the Jedi's copper skin before he was down for the count. Anakin smiled tightly, not experiencing the usual release he felt after a combatant fell. Damn it, Obi-Wan, you had to creep into my conscience, didn't you?

And just as he was condemning his former Master, there he was-face-to-face with the man. Anakin flinched visibly. He had never envisioned Obi-Wan in a place like this. He didn't even like to think of his Master mingling with this crowd. Before either of them could get a word out, Anakin grasped Obi-Wan's elbow-for he was crossing his arms in disapproval of course-and led him out the doors. He was not going to have this conversation in such a place.

Standing on the walkway, facing each other, Anakin still clutching Obi-Wan's elbow, they breathed for a moment. Each man searched the face of the other, looking for answers, asking questions. The pulse of the Force between them was another heartbeat. But this heartbeat pumped tension, anger, frustration, and disappointment through their collective veins.

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say or do. He was angry. He knew that. But anger wasn't going to solve anything. Neither was pleading with Anakin. He knew that well enough from their encounter over Anakin's broken nose. He just didn't know how to reach the young man anymore. Who had he become over these short months? How had he changed so much?

But that thought brought Obi-Wan up short. Who was he to judge change? He himself was dealing with so much change in his personal philosophies that he was often awash in indecision and frustration too. And there was no little amount of disappointment in himself mixed in there as well. Maybe he just needed to be honest with Anakin. Maybe that was always the best route.

He rearranged his facial features, not into the passive Jedi look he had perfected, but into something that didn't say anger, nor disappointment, nor contempt. He hoped it approached something akin to understanding. He even attempted a tight smile.

Anakin was still roiling in his volatile emotions. He hadn't found the release he needed in the club, and now Obi-Wan looked like he was about to deliver the mother of all lectures about Jedi propriety or some other Sith-damned thing he couldn't be persuaded to give a shit about. He had done his duty. He had won the war, nearly single-handedly (in his own mind), and he deserved to just live a quiet life for a little while. And if that quiet life included beating the crap out of strangers on a nightly basis, who was Obi-Wan to tell him he couldn't?

But then he felt the change. He felt the force of Obi-Wan's emotions diminish. They didn't completely disappear, but they were reined in. And not in the same way he used to do so-so entirely that it was as if Obi-Wan had never had an emotional reaction in his whole life. But they felt more like the emotions of a normal person. It was different but not an unwelcome development in Anakin's eyes. When he looked at Obi-Wan's face, he could see the difference there as well.

Finally, after several silent minutes, connected by Anakin's firm grasp on his Master's elbow, Obi-Wan reached up and clasped the younger man's elbow as well. His thumb nestled in the crook where forearm met bicep, and he caressed ever so slightly. He felt Anakin relax minutely at the gesture.

"Please don't risk yourself this way, Anakin," he said, his voice so level that even he was surprised.

"Why?" Anakin asked with very little hostility.

"Because you are important."

"Important? How? To whom? The Order?"

Obi-Wan squeezed just a little on the arm, "You are important to me."

Anakin just stood and looked at Obi-Wan.

The Master continued, looking up earnestly into the blazing blue eyes, "I understand how you are feeling. Let me help you find other ways to deal with this."

Anakin simply nodded and flicked his head toward the Temple. Obi-Wan nodded and they simultaneously released each other to walk shoulder-to-shoulder back to the massive structure they called home.

They didn't say another word. There were no words to say. Anakin walked Obi-Wan to his door this time. Before his Master could turn away and disappear through the door, Anakin quickly reached out and enveloped the smaller frame in his long arms.

He simply held Obi-Wan for a minute, not squeezing, not rocking. Stock still, except for Obi-Wan raising his arms to fold around Anakin's back as well. As if on cue, they both released at the same moment, and Obi-Wan turned to his door. It opened silently, and Anakin took the opportunity of his Master's turned back to quietly say, "We'll talk tomorrow."

And then he was gone down the corridor.

TBC