Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.
― Lemony Snicket
It had been exactly one day less than two years since Ben had lost his sight. This was the day he had been dreading since he'd found that he had gone back in time.
He didn't want to meet his Master. He didn't want to have to consider whether to give Anakin to the Jedi or keep him on Tatooine. He didn't want to see the rest of the world the way it had been before he had failed to be what Anakin needed. He was afraid.
It wasn't a Dark fear. He was honest enough with himself now to know that fear itself wasn't Dark. Neither was anger nor even, perhaps, hatred. No, this was a righteous fear, a fear that the boy he had this time raised from the age of three would again become a Sith. This was a fear that the balance he had somehow restored in himself and his life would be shaken. This was fear of the same thing being lost as had been last time.
He had decided not to seek the Jedi out. He would stay here and let them come to him if fate demanded it, and he could only hope that fate wouldn't demand this of him. After all, what was the balance? How could someone sent to restore balance destroy all the Darkness? The more you think about it, the less it makes sense. What joy is there in the day if it is endless?
Ben's balance was between the happiness and innocence of this Anakin and the angry Darkness that had consumed his brother. That made more sense. So he would wait, and he would pray to the Force that it wouldn't ask him to give up Anakin to the Jedi.
Of course, the Force has never answered his prayers.