Hi! thank you all again for the feedback I got, it means a lot! My updates may be slow as it is getting nearer and nearer to exams and I have coursework to do, but I will try to update as much as I can. This chapter is a bit long, I really hope it isn't too long and that you enjoy ^^
Morana: Thank you so much for reviewing! I agree, if Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship had been better, then a whole lot could have been avoided. I think their main issue was that they simply couldn't be open with each other because of the issues with emotions.
Guest: Thank you so much for reviewing, I'm so glad you like my story so much 3
Disclaimers- I own nothing still.
It was early; streams of sunlight spilled through the gaps of Obi-Wan's curtains, illuminating the spiralling swirls of dust slowly moving in and out of the beams of light. The Jedi knew he should try to get more sleep, that he would need all the energy he could get when it came to the small youngling curled up at his side. When Anakin was energetic, you needed to mirror that energy, if not have more, just to keep up with him.
Nothing seemed to phase him, at least not for long. The nightmares, of which there were even more last night, fell away with every sunrise. Sometimes he would be more put out by more of the disturbing ones and there were mornings where Obi-Wan had to walk around carrying Anakin because he simply refused to let his master out of his grip. But even after that, he would soon have boundless energy. It was a wonder he could control him at all the way he was so easily excitable.
He needed sleep to handle him, but Obi-Wan didn't want to go back to sleep. He needed this too, this calm, easy silence. He got so little time to himself that he needed to savour these moments. Even now, he wasn't by himself, but he didn't mind the constant companionship and the last thing he wanted was to let Anakin out of his sight in this state. But times like this, times of silence, were still needed. He could think now, though the topics he needed to think about weren't particularly the ones he wanted in his head.
Padme had told him to talk to Anakin about what yesterday had brought up when he was older and Obi-Wan agreed, but still, he remained worried. What exactly did this mean in terms of their relationship? Anakin wasn't who he thought he was. The boy had been lying to him for two years and that knowledge hurt. It wasn't just the fact that he had been lied to; it was that he had made Anakin feel that the only option he had left was to lie. He wasn't able to talk to his own master.
How long had these dark feelings and thoughts been festering in him? How strong had they grown under ignorance and neglect? The Dark had slowly been pulling Anakin further and further away from the Light for a long time now, only Obi-Wan didn't have the perception to notice it. He felt the change though, when he first met Anakin after he had been transformed.
The Jedi didn't want to acknowledge it, wanted to ignore just how much Anakin had changed. Because it wasn't only his body that had become different, but his presence. As a child, he was Light. He belonged more to the Light than he had done for years. His change to the Dark Side had been so gradual, so slow, that it had gone almost unnoticed, but now it couldn't be ignored, not when Anakin felt so incredibly different to before.
Obi-Wan didn't know why his transformation would turn his padawan back to the Light. Maybe it was because younglings were innocent. They weren't corrupted and though Anakin still had those same feelings and memories, they were filtered through a child's mind. Or perhaps being a child gave Anakin the freedom to let go of all of those destructive feelings and welcome in the Light, to absorb it without question. Whether he could ever be changed back or not, whoever had turned Anakin into a youngling for whatever reason had done him a favour.
Obi-Wan could only hope he would stay like this when, if, he was turned back. He almost didn't want him to. That would mean confronting a whole mess of issues that he did not want to get started on. They'd have to address his marriage, his crimes and with that, probably their whole relationship.
It was hard to believe the small child sleeping at his side had done such terrible, heinous things. He was so innocent, so pure, yet he had blood on his hands still. It made him wonder, how differently he would have reacted if Anakin had told him at nineteen years old? Perhaps Anakin had good reason to keep his crimes a secret. Would he have turned him in to the Council? Would he have kept it a secret between them? Will he when he's grown up? And would he have said all the things he had told him yesterday? Would they have even talked about it?
Obi-Wan didn't know. The possibilities of what could have been, the uncertainties he harboured worried him and they brought up another question that made him feel sick: was he such a bad master that he made his own padawan feel like he couldn't come for help? Because it wasn't as though he told no one; he felt comfortable enough to tell Padme, but not the man who raised him? Perhaps it was because the boy knew that if he told Obi-Wan then he would be punished, but it was more than that.
They didn't talk. Not about things like this. Obi-Wan lectured and Anakin half listened, but that wasn't discussing it. Emotions and feelings were just yet another Jedi teaching his padawan didn't learn. Until now, the Jedi had thought that the boy refused to obey his master, that he went against his teachings because he was rebellious, because he didn't want to let go of his feelings. He knew now that he didn't listen, didn't try to get rid of his attachments and emotions not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. How could he, when all he had known up to that point was his mother's love?
The first nine years of his life was practically one big traumatic experience, one which wasn't discussed with anyone. Force, the boy didn't even get any form of counselling for his experience in slavery, they just went on with his teachings like he was any ordinary youngling. Everyone acknowledged that he was different, but no one did enough to accommodate for it.
They did at first, but soon all of his teachers expected him to act and think like the other padawans. But of course, how could he? How could be expected to act in a way that was instinct to the rest of his peers. He didn't just have to learn how the Jedi teachings, he had to learn how to think and feel like a Jedi. And that wasn't fair, to expect a homesick boy who was light years away from the one person who had ever mattered to him to accomplish these things. And he was expected to forget about her.
Children need to be loved. Anakin needed it so badly and all he had left was a person who didn't really want him, through no fault of his own. Yet, that didn't matter. Because he was all Anakin had. And so, Obi-Wan became his parent, his teacher, his master, his brother and over time his friend. Obi-Wan did not mean to bring him up like he was his own. He meant to be a master just like all of the others, but he was so lost. He was practically a boy himself and no one had told him how to be a master; and the only person who could have guided him was the one he had lost. Though it was a horrible truth for a Jedi to realise, he needed to somebody to love too and to love him in return. And who better than a youngling who was all the more willing to give his heart to anyone who would take it.
They had both lost so much, all they could do was cling to one another. It was no one's fault. They were both so wrapped in grief that even though they both resented the other for not being the person they truly wanted, even though they didn't want the situation they found themselves in, they had no choice but to depend one another. They were all each other had. And love simply made their bond stronger.
Only, their bond would always be fractured. Because Obi-Wan did love Anakin, but he was more than aware of the rules and dangers of attachment. So, he turned away, closed himself off. Maybe if he had turned his padawan away without feeling, then maybe it would have been easier. But there was feeling there. He rejected Anakin even though he was the thing most dearest to him. Anakin knew that he loved him, knew why he never said, but hated that he never did. It was a betrayal he wasn't sure Anakin would ever forgive.
The boy was more than willing to give his Master all the love he possibly could, but he wasn't given that assurance in return. Instead, what he got were lectures on attachments and empty platitudes on emotions. He was told not to feel, to pretend. In a way, Obi-Wan was the one who taught Anakin to lie, not only to his master, but to himself. He couldn't get rid of the attachments so he hid, he pretended, because there was nothing else to do. He couldn't accept how he felt, so he acted like he didn't feel at all. Perhaps Anakin wouldn't want to change back either. Being so young gave him a sort of freedom he hadn't had since he was a slave.
"Mhmm..." Obi-Wan blinked, looking down to see a sleepy padawan look up at him, "Mas'er?"
"It's all right, Anakin," he soothed, stroking his soft hair, "go back to sleep."
"Worried," he mumbled, rubbing at one eye with his fist.
"I didn't put up my shields," Obi-Wan muttered, running a hand across his face, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. Everything's fine, really."
Anakin stared at him, tilting his head, still looking exhausted, "'m your padawan."
Obi-Wan cupped his cheek, sighing, "I know you are, little one. As I'm your master."
The youngling smiled a little, slumping back against his master, "Needed to check," he explained, his eyes closing.
Obi-Wan felt a painful sting at this and he sighed, "You don't need to check. You will always be my padawan, Anakin."
"Not always," the boy mumbled, "'ll be Jedi one day."
The Jedi smiled, "All right. You will always be my youngling. And I will always be your master and will always look after you."
The youngling gave him a wide, sleepy smile, "love you, Mas'er," he yawned, already falling back asleep.
Obi-Wan rubbed his back, sinking back against the pillows, his eyes falling on the sunlight once more. Padme was right. He couldn't dwell on these thoughts whilst Anakin was like this. Anakin would know exactly what would be on his mind and it wouldn't be fair to either of them to bring up an issue that at this point couldn't be resolved. He wasn't the man who had killed, who had lied, betrayed. He was a youngling. He could feel the boy's innocence, his purity, his light and Obi-Wan didn't want to stain it whilst his padawan still so good. He drew the covers round the sleeping boy's shoulders, murmuring, "And I love you, Anakin."
...
Obi-Wan managed to get back to sleep eventually. Because of Anakin's restless nights, it meant that they were getting more lie ins as the boy needed more sleep, a luxury that he had never been able to indulge whilst Anakin was his padawan. Jedi always got up early- there was simply too much to do in the day that meant they couldn't afford to sleep in, something which Anakin had always disliked. He had had too many forced mornings under Watto's control to be able to appreciate them any more and was always begging for more time to sleep and later mornings. So it was rather ironic that now he was a youngling and could get all the sleep in the world not only because he wanted it, but because he needed it, that he now woke Obi-Wan up early. All children are early risers and Anakin was no exception
"Anakin," he groaned as he felt the boy's finger poke at his cheek, "you know, there are far more pleasant ways to wake up your master then prodding at him like he's one of your droids."
"Don't prod droids," he could practically hear the boys scowl in his voice, "fix them."
"Yes, but you have to find out what part of them is broken to fix them, don't you?" Obi-Wan sighed, turned onto his side he could look at the boy sitting by him, his precious bantha on his lap, "I thought you would have done that by poking at them?"
Anakin rolled his eyes, looking exasperated beyond belief with his master's lack of knowledge on mechanics, "Don't poke droids! You... you just don't!"
Obi-Wan shook his head, "Still, should I wake you up every day like this?" he began to jab gently at the boy's cheek, his hand being slapped away almost instantly, "see?" he smirked a little, sitting up, "it isn't nice, is it?"
"No," Anakin conceded sulkily, looking down at Markyle.
"No need to pout, my young padawan," Obi-Wan smiled, swinging his legs off the bed and rising to his feet.
"Don't pout!" Anakin protested, raising his arms, signalling he wanted to be picked up.
The Jedi grinned and shook his head, "I don't know what you'll do when you're older, you know," he said, lifting the boy into his arms, balancing him on his hip, "I won't be able to carry you around all the time, even if you are tired."
Anakin looked rather sad at this piece of news, "What... not ever?" he asked, looking at his master morosely.
"Well, you'd be a lot bigger and heavier, little one. It won't be very easy for me."
"You're strong!" Anakin pointed out.
"True, but even if I could carry you around all the time, I doubt you'll want me to when you're older."
"Don't carry me around all the time," Anakin protested as his master placed him on his seat at the table, "just when I'm tired."
Obi-Wan shrugged, "Fair point."
Anakin paused for a moment, "Master?"
"Hm?"
"What'll happen if I don't get older?" Obi-Wan turned, seeing the apprehension and worry in the boys eyes. The question had clearly never come to him before, "Will I still be with you?"
Obi-Wan nodded, "I see no reason why you shouldn't be," he offered a reassuring smile, "I'm sure that we can reverse this, but if we can't, I will continue to train you as my padawan."
Anakin's shoulders sagged with relief. But then, "I'd have to grow up again!" the boy exclaimed, sounding rather disgusted at the thought, "I'd have to learn everything again!"
"Well, not everything. It isn't as though you've forgotten everything now, is it?"
Anakin huffed out a sigh, "Still, have to lightsaber train again."
"Well, hopefully it won't have to come to that, Anakin," Obi-Wan smiled, patting his shoulder, "we should be able to reverse it, so try not to worry about what may not even happen."
Anakin nodded, thinking, "You... wouldn't mind?"
"Mind what?"
Anakin tilted his head, staring at him, "bringing me up again?"
Obi-Wan blinked, before shaking his head, smiling, "I didn't mind the first time."
"But... it'd take a long time," Anakin played with Markyle's horns, looking thoughtful, "you wouldn't get to do missions and stuff for years," his eyes grew round, "That's ages!"
Obi-Wan sat down, cupping the boy's cheek with his palm, "Anakin, it is my job to bring you up. As my master, that is what I'm meant to do. There are no rules or restrictions on how many times or how long it takes. Even if it wasn't my duty to teach you, I would still train you. I promised you that I would and I don't break promises easily. And... in all honesty I wouldn't want you under the care of another master, nor do I think you would."
Anakin frowned at the thought, shaking his head, "Other masters wouldn't like me," he said, before smiling, "we're family!" he leaned forward, pressing his hands over Obi-Wan's heart, "we've got a bond. Can't ever break that! 's why you'll always have to be my master!"
Obi-Wan's smile shone, his eyes glittering. The two small hands pressed against his chest were encompassed by one palm. A part of him wished that it would it always be this simple, "That's right, Anakin. That is why I will always be your master."
...
Obi-Wan was more than grateful to Bail for giving Anakin that present. For one, it meant that he was actually allowed to clean up the mess of odds and ends sitting in the middle of their living room (all previous attempts had ended with Anakin practically spread eagled on the pile in the attempt to save it from the tyranny of his cruel master), though mainly it was because Anakin loved drawing so much.
It was strange; before Bail had come, he'd never seen his padawan take any interest in art. Perhaps it was because he never had the opportunity when he was still with his mother to find his interest in drawing. Another reason the Jedi was so grateful, (or at least he thought that it was a valid reason at the time) was that he had thought that it would keep Anakin cleaner.
But no, drawing didn't make the youngling any cleaner. It just meant that instead of oil stains, he now had to scrub off ink and paint, which somehow managed to get everywhere on him. Obi-Wan didn't know just how his padawan continued to be so messy, but he did. He'd call it a skill if it had a use for anything. Maybe it was a ploy to get Obi-Wan to give him more baths, which really wouldn't surprise him all that much, since the boy had a fascination with water he had never seen in a person before, youngling or not.
"Anakin, how is it that when you're drawing something on paper, which is on the floor, that you manage to get paint on your face?" Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow.
Anakin shrugged, "I don't know," he thought for a moment, "must be magic."
"Magic paint?" The Jedi's eyebrow rose higher.
"Uh-huh. It likes me more than paper," Anakin replied smiling up at him.
Obi-Wan snorted and shook his head, "Well, it also seems to like your tunic as well," he reached down and began to pull the youngling's tunic up, Anakin instantly complying and lifting up his arms, "you're a lot easier to wash than your clothes," he said, standing back up, "but try not to be too enthusiastic with the paintbrush, Anakin."
"I won't!" the boy chimed, flashing a grin at him before hunching over his painting again, his face bearing a look of intense concentration.
"Aren't you worried about painting Markyle?" Obi-Wan asked, sitting at the table whilst glancing at the bantha sitting by Anakin's side.
Anakin shook his head, not looking up from his important work, "No, he's fine," he murmured, "he doesn't mind paint."
Obi-Wan shook his head, looking down at his datapad, "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"
They sat in a comfortable silence, Obi-Wan reading reports on their progress in the war whilst the kitchen floor slowly began to get covered with Anakin's paintings. If they had carried on like that throughout the day, the entire kitchen floor would doubtless have been lost with all under all of the paintings. But as it happened, by the time Anakin was on his way to filling up a quarter of the kitchen floor, he stopped.
"Master?"
"Mm?" Obi-Wan hummed distractedly, not looking up.
"Can I see Chanc'lor Palpatine today?"
The Jedi paused, before looking up at his waiting padawan. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of him. Paint was smeared over his chest and face, looking like a crude attempt to put on war paint. Obi-Wan couldn't help envision a snarling, wild Anakin off on a jungle planet somewhere, brandishing a makeshift spear at some unassuming explorer. "Er, why, Anakin?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face and dismiss the image from his mind.
The boy shrugged, "Haven't visited him. And I wanna see him," Anakin looked up and frowned in thought as the smile fell from his master's face, "You don't like him."
It wasn't a question. Obi-Wan stroked his beard, "It isn't that, Anakin," he murmured, thinking of how he could illustrate to his padawan the issues involving the Chancellor. The boy had bias, he knew that, so he couldn't really blame him for not being more wary. It would almost be like the Council asking Anakin to be cautious of Padme almost. But there was something about him, something unexplainable that Obi-Wan simply did not like. He didn't trust him, neither did the Council and he didn't know how he felt about leaving his padawan alone with him in this state. Of course, he didn't think Palpatine would actually do anything, but it was just placing a child, his child, into the care of someone untrustworthy that made him nervous, "I just... he's a politician."
"You don't like pol'ticians," Anakin said, rolling his eyes.
"I just think we should be cautious, that's all," Obi-Wan explained.
"Padme," he pointed out, frowning.
"There is always an exception to every rule," Obi-Wan replied calmly, "but Chancellor Palpatine is a lot more powerful than Padme is and power is a dangerous thing.
"He's not dangerous," the youngling protested. He thought for a moment, "if I promise to be careful, can I see him?" his master raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Please," he whined, "I promise I'll be careful."
The Jedi sighed. He doubted he would be able to stop the boy even if he said no anyway. He was far too stubborn for his own good, "All right," he conceded, "but we have to check first. He is a very busy man, you know and he did only return from his trip today."
"Thank you, Master!" Anakin exclaimed, flashing his master a huge grin.
Obi-Wan laughed a little, shaking his head, "It's all right. Though I think we should clean you up a little beforehand don't you?" he nodded at the boy, who looked down at his colourful front, "I don't think the chancellor would appreciate a wildling turning up on his doorstep."
Anakin's eyes grew round. He shot up, nearly upsetting the glass of murky water and paintbrushes beside him, "Bath?!"
The Jedi winced a little at his padawan's shouting, but chortled all the same, "Yes, Anakin," he grinned, rising to his feet, "I can give you a bath now."
...
Obi-Wan hadn't always been a patient man. He had once been reckless, eager to jump into the fray (though if he told his padawan that he doubted he would believe him), but he had learnt, over the years, how to control that readiness, to condense it, master it. After all, waiting around was what mostly consisted of being a good negotiator. You had to wait, had to learn, had hold back, had to be patient. It was a pity Anakin had never listened carefully enough to that particular lesson.
Yet still, Obi-Wan understood. He knew that urge to rush in, to get it over with. It was an urge he felt now. He was stood out side of Palpatine's office, waiting for his padawan to re-emerge from his chambers. Anakin had said he would be half an hour, but he was ten minutes late now. The Jedi wouldn't care so much if it wasn't Palpatine who was stealing his padawan's time. He felt uneasy; he knew that he shouldn't, that it was foolishness. There was being wary and then there was plain paranoia. But it was Anakin and oh, how Obi-Wan was aware, painfully aware of his padawan's vulnerability. It may be unnecessary worry, but he could not help it.
He looked up as the door opened, his padawan stepping out into the corridor. Anakin shut it, before spotting Obi-Wan and running to him, slamming into his legs. Obi-Wan smiled in relief, resting his hand on the youngling's head, his face pressed against his shins.
"Anakin?" he asked, frowning a little when he didn't let go, "is something the matter?"
Anakin looked up and shook his head, "No," he murmured, squeezing the man's legs tight, "just want a hug."
"Well, as far as I know, legs can't give hugs," he said, reaching down and lifting the boy up to his chest, "but arms can."
Anakin nodded, wrapping his arms around his neck and hiding his face against it's crook. The Jedi held him tight, allowing unwarranted relief to flood through him.
"Anakin, are you sure you're all right?" Obi-Wan asked, glancing with difficulty at the youngling clinging to him. He felt a nod rub against his cheek. He began to walk, Anakin not moving from his position. "you're very quiet." Another nod. Something was wrong. If this meeting had gone well, Anakin would without a doubt be nattering on by Obi-Wan's side about what a good time he had had and what they had talked about. But the boy wasn't talking and his grip on his master was like a vice, "Did something happen?"
Slowly, Anakin pulled his face away, though he was still holding onto his master as tight as ever. "No," he mumbled, "nothing happened."
"Didn't you have a nice time?"
"Uh-huh," the boy looked rather forlorn, a rather unwelcome change from the animated youngling Obi-Wan was with before.
"But...?"
"But..." Anakin looked round, before murmured in the Jedi's ear, "I don't think Chanc'lor likes me any more."
"Oh?" Obi-Wan frowned, "and why's that?"
"He was..." Anakin's brow creased in thought, "busy."
"Busy?"
He nodded, "Mh-hm. Not looking at me much."
Obi-Wan mouthed the word, trying to decipher what his padawan meant, "Do you mean... distracted?"
"Uh-huh. And he didn't feel very happy."
"What did he feel like?"
"Thinking," Anakin murmured, "worried. And..." he huffed out an irritated sigh, "can't explain," he muttered, scowling, "but... makes me feel weird."
"What, the Chancellor does?"
Anakin nodded, "Don't know why though," he eased his arms that were so tight around the Jedi's neck and rested his head on his shoulder, "but he doesn't make me feel right."
Obi-Wan rubbed his back, walking on in silence as this new information rolled over in his mind. Why on earth would Chancellor Palpatine make Anakin feel that way? And why would he be distracted by Anakin's presence. His friend had mysteriously turned into a three year old, surely that would mean the man would be anything but distracted? Whatever he had done to make Anakin feel this way, it had had a strong effect on the boy. He didn't think he had seen him so put out since before his transformation.
"Did he say or do anything in particular?"
The boy shook his head, "'s just a feeling. Being there made me feel weird, nothing he did or said."
Obi-Wan paused for a moment outside their door, before opening it and walking inside. He sat at the table, easing the youngling onto his lap, "Anakin, do you think this feeling is anything you can resolve or figure out?"
"No," Anakin mumbled.
"Then, my advice is don't think about it," he ran his fingers through his hair, "if you can't fix it, then for the time being, you might as well just leave it alone."
"You sure?" Anakin asked, tilting his head a little.
"Yes, Anakin. It's no use you thinking on it if it all it will do is make you miserable," the Jedi smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "so, you're going to cheer yourself up by drawing me a picture," he lifted the boy off his lap and onto the floor, "and I will make us lunch."
...
"Master! You need to fix him now!" Obi-Wan rose an eyebrow at the small boy frowning up at him, his loud voice filled with obstinate determination. He held up the stuffed bantha, the white stuffing clearly showing through a rip in the soft, furry belly. The Jedi picked it up, glancing it over with a sceptical eye.
"Anakin, it isn't a very big tear," he said, poking at the stuffing coming out, "I'm sure he'll be fine."
"He's gonna tear more if you don't fix him!" Anakin shouted, lifting up his arms and making a grabbing motion.
"Anakin, we've talked about not shouting at people." Obi-Wan reprimanded, passing the bantha back to his padawan, "and manners?"
The youngling looked at Markyles and sighed, "Please fix him," he asked, his voice not quite so loud, "he'll lose all of his insides."
The corners of Obi-Wan's mouth twitched a little, "All right. I'll see if I have something to fix him up with."
It was getting on to eight; really the boy should have been in bed by now, but the Jedi doubted he would go to bed without his beloved bantha. It really did make him wonder what he would do with the toy when he grew up. Anakin followed him round the apartment as he searched for a needle and some thread, but much to the boy's disappointment, he could find nothing to heal Markyle.
Obi-Wan turned to the small boy, his face still set in determination, "Does he have to get fixed tonight?" he asked, almost wearily.
Anakin nodded with the utmost seriousness, "He's gonna all fall out."
The Jedi stroked his beard and nodded. There really wasn't a whole lot of point arguing with him, not on a matter like this, "All right then. Get your cloak, we're going out."
"Medbay?"
Obi-Wan laughed, "No, Anakin to the store. I need to buy something to fix your bantha up."
"Could have been to the medbay," Anakin grumbled.
...
Anakin, as usual, was running on ahead of Obi-Wan. The Jedi couldn't help but find it amusing, as he knew exactly why his padawan was so giddy; he was staying up past his bed time and what's more he was out of the temple. It really did not take a lot to make the boy happy these days.
"Anakin," he called, watching the boy almost fall over as he skidded to a halt, "you'll slip if you go too fast, you're still wet from the rain."
"'ll be careful, Master!" Anakin called, grinning, before dashing off again.
Obi-Wan shook his head, hoping the youngling wouldn't actually fall over. Maybe it would teach him to actually slow down for once, but he doubted it. Anakin had never been one for taking things slowly.
He had felt it before he had seen it. That was often what happened with those attuned to the Force; eyes can deceive, but the Force never lies. He couldn't see him, he didn't see the blaster, didn't see him aim. But Obi-Wan felt it, that sharp, stab of fear to his gut, the man's warped presence, the danger it brought. It only took a second for the world to explode.
"Anakin!"
The boy didn't know what was happening before his master slammed into him. Markyle flew from his grip, flying out of sight as everything around them crashed to the ground. He could hear the dull thuds and loud smashes as everything from the shelves clattered to the floor, hear his master's ragged breathing, but there was hardly time to take it all in, no time to figure out was going on because Obi-Wan was scrambling to his feet, igniting his lightsaber and running as fast he could as the sounds of blast shots assaulted the youngling's ears.
Another shot screamed past them, so close the Jedi could feel its heat. It was almost as though his brain had shut down; he couldn't think, there wasn't time to think, only act. There wasn't time, there was no time, more and more shots were following them as Obi-Wan ran to the door. His grip didn't falter on Anakin, rather he held on tighter as he felt a shot rip tear past his leg. It wasn't a direct hit, but it was enough to make him him to cry out in pain, to falter. It was enough for the man to stop him right in his tracks.
The blaster was aimed right at them, the owner's face half hidden with a sort of mask, though he could still see the eyes and only told him what he already knew: bounty hunter.
"Give me the kid," he ordered, his eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's.
The man was a fool if he could think he could actually bargain with Obi-Wan, especially when he had a lightsaber in his hand. He could and would defend himself against anything that blaster could produce.
"My orders are to take him alive," the man continued, "they say nothing about what state he has to be in."
Kenobi moved his lightsaber to cover Anakin more, his grip on him so tight he knew it would be hurting, but he didn't dare loosen up.
"Who's orders?"
He could see him grin beneath his mask, the edges of his eyes wrinkling with icy mirth. He rose his blaster to the Jedi's face, "You won't get the chance to find out."
Shards of glass, glittering, sparkling amongst the rain drops crashed around Obi-Wan as his body was thrown through the door; there was a familiar, sickening crunch as he collided with floor of the hangar bay. The rain was pounding on the ground, the man rolling, slipping, sliding across the hangar until he felt his legs slide over the edge. His finger tips scrabbled desperately to get a grip, one arm still clutching Anakin; he could feel the other pull and burn, the strain of holding both him and Anakin seemingly tearing his muscle apart.
"Anakin," he gasped, his arm trembling. Force, he was scarcely holding on by his fingertips, "put your arms around my neck and don't let go."
Anakin had his eyes shut tight, too shocked to make even make a noise. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around his master's neck, the boy's small arms almost squeezing the breath out of Obi-Wan. His back screamed in protest as he heaved himself up onto floor, the Jedi's arms burning, his fingers turning almost numb with the rain and exertion. He collapsed onto his back, rain falling into his eyes as he stared up at the dark clouds above him.
"Anakin," he wheezed, "you can let go now."
The boy's grip loosened and Obi-Wan let out a rasping gasp. Everything hurt. There wasn't a place on his body that wasn't filled with a burning ache that bled into his very bones. It was effort merely to get onto his knees, but he forced himself too, allowing himself to cry out as pressure was put on his leg. He managed to rise to his feet, one aching arm clinging to the youngling. He reached out and his lightsaber flew to his hand.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, allowing the rain to wash over him, letting it soak his robes, the cold almost making him numb, though not quite yet, the drenching water reminding him that they had survived. There was no hole through his chest, Anakin shivering, scared, but alive. They were both alive.
"Are you alright?" he rasped, "Anakin, are you hurt?" the boy didn't take his face from his shoulder, but he managed to shake his head. The Jedi absently diagnosed shock and hoped that that was all, but he would have to check at the temple. If they had survived, then there was a chance the bounty hunter had stolen a bit of their luck. Limping, he made his way through the rain back to the shop, lightsaber ignited. The lights had gone out, but the blue of his lightsaber was bright enough to illuminate the way. He stepped over the debris, glass and other things crunching under foot. Finally, he found the bounty hunter.
Obi-Wan checked for a pulse he knew he wasn't going to find. In the glow of his weapon he could see the blood and brains smeared on the wall. He turned from it; that was the last thing he wanted Anakin to see. It wasn't his fault, the boy's powers were entirely out of his control and most likely he saved their lives, but younglings and death did not go well together. Even though he was dead, Obi-Wan didn't want to be away from the temple any longer. There wouldn't just be one bounty hunter after his padawan and a thrill of terror shook him at the thought of so many killers and hunters after Anakin. He was three and though he had powers, they were entirely out of his control. Other than that, the boy was helpless.
He made his way as fast as he could to his speeder, ignoring how the pain in his thigh flared up as he clambered in. It was always Anakin who had been the reckless flyer, the one who was always so eager to hurtle through traffic at a suicidal speed. The podd racing, it seemed, had never quite left him. But now it was his master who was dodging traffic, hurtling through as fast as he could.
He glanced down at the small boy sitting on his lap, who still hadn't made a single sound. He was pale, his gaze unnervingly vacant as he stared at nothing. The Jedi could feel the slight tremors run through the small body. He was in shock, but Obi-Wan couldn't deal with that right now. Once they were back in the temple, once they were safe, then he could help Anakin.
...
Once they landed, Obi-Wan made his way into the temple as fast as he could, though it was hard; his leg was still burning with every step he took and the pain in his back brought a wheeze to every breath he took. He let out a sigh of relief once they were inside and he knelt down, ignoring the pain it brought, standing Anakin before him. The boy still wasn't speaking, staring listlessly into space.
"Anakin," he placed his hands on the cold cheeks, moving his head gently to make those blue eyes meet his, "Anakin, are you alright?"
Slowly, the boy's eyes focused, realisation mingled with confusion showing on his face. He stared up at his master, his breath quickening. "Anakin, it's okay, you're safe. We're back at the temple, we're safe. It's alright, little one."
The youngling looked round, his mouth working, but still no words were coming out. He started to stammer, "Wh... wh-wh-wh-"
"He's gone, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed, wincing at the child's stuttering attempts to speak, "he can't come after us any more."
Anakin turned his head back, staring at his master with round eyes. He could see the cogs in his mind working, the boy slowly piecing things together, going back over their horrible adventure. His body began to shake violently and ragged, broken whimpers and sobs began to echo round the empty corridor. It was when Obi-Wan pulled him into his arms that he started to howl. He hid his face into his into his neck, unable to speak, only to cry against his master.
"It's okay," Obi-Wan murmured, hugging the boy to him tightly, "it's all right, padawan," he pressed a kiss against the rain soaked locks. He staggered to his feet, still holding the boy to his chest, "we're safe now. You were so brave, Anakin. I'm so proud you," he rubbed the shaking back, taking in a shuddering breath, "I'm so proud of you."
...
Anakin hadn't stopped crying. True, he wasn't quite as hysterical as he was before, but he was still crying in earnest. He watched as the healer checked Obi-Wan over with round, tear spilling eyes. Obi-Wan gave him a tired, but reassuring smile. He knew Anakin wanted to be with him right at that very moment, but for now, he would just have to contend with being with Rex.
After arriving, the Jedi thought it best to get as much protection possible and he knew that Anakin would be in too much of a state to allow anyone who wasn't a friend hold him whilst his master was being looked over. He'd found Rex and Cody still awake, thankfully. Rex had gone with him and Anakin to the healers, whilst Cody had gone to inform Master Yoda and Windu about what had happened. Well, that and to go back to the store and look for Markyle. Anakin may had forgotten him for the time being, but he would remember him at some point and once he realised he was gone, it would only make things worse.
"Doesn't Anakin need to get looked over?" Rex asked, absently stroking the boy's hair. Anakin was sat on his lap, both of his arms wrapped around the one holding him.
"I don't think he'll let the healers look at him," Obi-Wan said, wincing as the healer prodded at his back, "perhaps you could give him a once over, Rex. I don't Anakin wants me out of his sight right now and I'm more concerned for his mental health than anything else. But he needs to change his clothes and get dry. You don't mind, do you?"
Rex shook his head, "Sir, I was the one who was him after he fell into that river on Bajim, remember?"
How could he forget? By the time he got there, Rex had already stripped the poor boy of all his clothes, despite his weak protests. The river was a sluggish, slow moving trail of ice and water and his padawan had managed to fall right into it. Rex had saved his life that day; Anakin's blue lips and the tremors racking his body were testament to just how close he came to hypothermia and possibly worse. They were brothers in arms; Rex had taken care of his commanding officer before and he certainly didn't mind doing so now.
"Of course," he murmured, smiling a little, "I just thought I should check."
Rex nodded, before turning to a healer and asking for a towel and some fresh robes. All the time Rex was checking Anakin, the boy's eyes remained fixed on Obi-Wan. He cried particularly loudly at certain points where the man's gentle fingers found bruises, but other than that, he made no form of communication. The boy still hadn't said a word.
"No breakages," Rex informed Obi-Wan, wrapping the large towel round him and drying him with it vigorously "he's bruised, but he should be alright."
Obi-Wan stroked his beard, his shoulders sagging with relief, "Thank you, Rex."
"Master Kenobi, I think you should go into a bacta tank," Obi-Wan's healer said from behind him, "I think it would only take a few hours at the most."
Obi-Wan shook his head, "I'm afraid my padawan doesn't have a few hours. He'll become even more hysterical if I'm not with him. Will my leg heal with out the bacta tank?"
The healer clearly didn't look pleased with this answer, but she glanced at Anakin, who was still soaking wet, though Rex was doing his best to dry him off, "Yes, it will. Luckily it was just a flesh wound and didn't hit any muscle. Your back will hurt a lot for the next few days though."
"That I can live with," Obi-Wan replied, smiling a little, "thank you."
Once his leg was patched up, the healer helped him put on some fresh robes, the feel of dry clothes pleasant after peeling the sopping robes from his skin.
"Thank you, Rex," he smiled, making his way to them, "I appreciate it really."
Rex returned the smile, "It was no trouble, Sir. He's all dry, but he's still cold."
"I'll give him a bath once I've spoken to Master Yoda and Master Windu," he said, lifting the small boy up into his arms. Anakin instantly latched onto him, his cries quieting a little as he buried his face against his shoulder, "hopefully it won't be too long."
"Sir," Obi-Wan looked up to see Cody entering the room, "Master Yoda and Master Windu are waiting in your rooms, Sir. And I found this," he withdrew a very tattered, torn Markyle from behind his back, "I managed to get there before anybody else."
Anakin peered at Cody, before his eyes fell on Markyle. They grew impossibly round and he took in a deep breath. He stared for a moment before, much to everyone's surprise he let out a wail and began to cry even harder than before.
Cody looked genuinely concerned, "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, watching the small boy that was supposed to be his general sob uncontrollably.
Obi-Wan shook his head, "No, Cody, you didn't. He's in shock, don't worry about it," he took Markyle off Cody and gave him a smile, "thank you."
"M-" Obi-Wan stopped at Anakin's stuttering voice, "M-m-m..." the boy rubbed his eyes, shaking his head, "ma f-fau... ma f-f-faul-"
"No, Anakin, stop," Obi-Wan eased himself onto the bed, holding the small boy on his lap in front of this, "Anakin," he said firmly, "this is not your fault. In no way is this your fault, padawan."
"B-b-b-bu," he pointed a shaking finger at the bantha, "M-m-mar-"
"Anakin, if we hadn't have left the temple tonight, then we would have done another night," he gently tipped the boy's chin up, forcing their eyes to meet, "this is not your fault, padawan. If they hadn't have come after us tonight, they would have done so another night. Neither of us could have known."
"B-b-bu," it was awful to listen to the boy splutter helplessly. He was trying so hard to speak, but the words weren't cooperating, "h-h-h-hur... h-h-hur-"
"Yes, you hurt me. But," he said quickly, forcing the boy to look at him again, "you saved my life. You saved both of us. I will not have you beating yourself up because of this, do you understand, Anakin?"
Anakin whimpered, but nodded.
Obi-Wan sighed, stroking away the tears on his cheek, "I don't care how badly I get hurt, Anakin. I will take anything, any amount of pain, even if that pain is from you, as long as your safe," he offered him a smile, "believe me padawan, I wouldn't be a good master if I didn't."