Hello again! It's been a while, hasn't it?
Well, I have no excuse for this one. It started with an opening sentence that I already used, and then I took it in a different direction. I apologize for the dark-ish feel-I wrote this one after finding out the hard way that I am not supposed to be in the youth group any more, and shouldn't have been last year either. Humiliating AND depressing. *sigh*
Wind
The sun screamed; the stars shut down. And in the midst of all the destruction, as hellfire rained down all around, as the world ended, there was a little girl, wailing.
At least, it sounded like that. It really wasn't. Obi-Wan knew it was only the wind, but he could not stifle the outcries of his instinct to go out and rescue the child, even though he knew—intellectually—that there was not a child out there.
"What's going on, Master?" Anakin asked, yawning sleepily.
"It's only the wind. Go back to sleep." Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He wasn't often visited by insomnia—at least, not when he was this exhausted—but tonight, something just didn't want him to sleep. He sighed.
Roused by the sound, Anakin stood up. "Are you okay?"
"Nothing has changed since fifteen minutes ago, when you last checked," Obi-Wan snapped, without heat. He was too worn out to be angry.
"Then you're still not-okay," Anakin decided. Obi-Wan stiffened.
"Anakin, I don't want to be having this conversation—"
Anakin sat down next to him. For a while, they were both silent; despite himself, Obi-Wan was glad of the company.
"Do you ever have… regrets, Master?" Anakin asked.
Too many. "Yes, Anakin," the Jedi Master sighed.
"Please. Tell me." Anakin begged, and Obi-Wan was surprised to hear him sound so… empty, so needy… so alone. Obi-Wan shivered slightly, and Anakin wrapped the blankets around them both.
"You can't live without regret, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly. "Not really. Not unless you stop feeling as well."
"Isn't that what Jedi are supposed to do, Master?" Anakin asked, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice.
"No." Obi-Wan said. "We can't lose sight of compassion." He drew in a deep breath. "After all, it's hard to be a murderer when you still hear the cries, when you see them look at you pleadingly…" He forced himself to stop. No. He wouldn't allow himself to go down that path. Not now. Not this close… He breathed, forcing himself to feel, to realize.
There is no smoke on the wind. There is no stink of bodies burning. There is no smell of blood, no reek of death. No one has died here today. He began again. "Even when I feel sure I've made the right decision, Anakin, I still sometimes feel regret. We're all still human."
"Even Master Windu?" Anakin said, still half-bitter. Obi-Wan almost laughed.
"Even Master Windu." There was silence for a long time after that, and Obi-Wan was almost surprised—for a while, now, there was peace.