Another week, another chapter! Thank you all again for continuing to follow, favorite, and review, I'm so glad that you're all enjoying the story, and hopefully some questions will be answered in the coming chapters as Anakin is finally recovering.
Rhea – 1948: The way I see Anakin at the moment Obi-Wan reaches into his mind to see what's happening is very confused and cautious as he doesn't recognize anything around him. Basically, Anakin feels Obi-Wan touch his mind, and the feeling is foreign to him when he's first woken up, and therefore, unconsciously or not, he lashes out to get rid of the foreign presence in his mind, which, unfortunately, means Obi-Wan is also physically pushed back. More will be explained in this chapter and the subsequent ones, thank you so much for your review!
CHAPTER 4
The swirling, undefined images and voices solidified, and he found himself in the midst of yet another nightmare.
The wind blowing through the planets' peaceful grassy meadows grows dark and cold, tarnished by his mere presence as he steps through the tall door with a legion of troopers at his back, imposing in his stature, his blood red blade drawn. The small band of rebels pauses in their thwarted escape attempt, and two ignite lightsabers of blue.
"Hera, go! We'll cover you," the older of the two shouts, and a pistachio skinned Twi'lek continues up the gangplank of the ship. The two Jedi advance, and the golden-eyed, mechanical fiend can sense their inexperience and naïveté as it radiates off of them in waves. He smiles sadistically beneath his helmet as he easily, effortlessly dispatches the master, throwing him like a ragdoll against the surrounding equipment. With gloved hand outstretched, the padawan held helpless by the Force, the monster begins forcing the black haired boys' own saber to bear on his young throat.
"Your master has deceived you into thinking you can become a Jedi." A voice, dark, menacing, and wholly inhuman taunts the young upstart, as the monster revels in the look of fear flooding the boys' eyes as his azure blade draws blisteringly close to his neck.
"Nah!" Anakin shot up in his bed as he broke the nightmare's hellish grasp, his hands shooting to his ears as the whispering in his head intensified. How much more of this can he endure? Anakin had no way of truly measuring time, but the bags under his eyes reflected his struggle with sleep since he had woken to a strange yet known world. The voices and shapes had plagued him from the moment that man had visited him and invaded his sensitive mind. There were few times when screaming, crying, and death didn't haunt his every moment as he struggled with the basics, like where he, Anakin Skywalker, fit within this world he knew but didn't. The man's face and voice has been a prominent fixture in his dreams and waking nightmares, always accompanied by frustration, love, and a suffocating guilt, none of which Anakin truly understood. He knew that man, he knew he did, but with the feelings surrounding him, Anakin didn't know if he wanted to remember why or how.
The meaningless jumble of voices became louder, transforming into an unbearable cacophony of torture that Anakin had to escape.
"You don't know the power of the Dark Side."
"A powerful Sith you will become."
"You have to believe me, Master!"
"I'll never join you!"
"You were my brother, Anakin!"
Anakin howled as he tried to grab hold of anything solid, something to make the pain stop. "Anakin?" A louder voice, more potent than the rest, more real, more tangible began tugging him back to the familiar strange reality. Steady, strong hands on his shoulders grounded him, but the voices refused to abate. "Anakin!" the voice urged again, and Anakin lifted his head from his hands, meeting a pair of concerned, steely blue-grey eyes. The voices stilled momentarily as Anakin took in the figure kneeling before him. Searching the face he somehow knew, the name "Obi-Wan" came flying from the ether into the forefront of his memory, a name that carried with it a cargohold of baggage.
"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked. "Anakin?" As clear as his voice had been moments before, the voices began whispering once again, joining and drowning out Obi-Wan's as he spoke, and the images flowed like a powerful stream of rapids as Anakin's eyes grew unfocused. Faster than he could hope to follow, images of memories real and not flashed across his mind's eye, all centered on the man before him.
Teacher, disciplinarian, "holding me back" became friend, partner, and brother as his padawan braid was chopped away and his hair was allowed to grow. Skywalker and Kenobi, armed and unstoppable, escaping from death against impossible odds, leading white-shelled troops into the blazing fray, rewarded by laughter and drinks at a job well done. Slowly, yet all too quickly things changed. Uncertainty, lost faith, burning planet, betrayal, "turned her against me."
"You were my brother, Anakin!"
Cut down and enclosed, darkness, hate, anger, despair. He stands before Obi-Wan again, metal and leather and evil, darkly powerful. His master, withered and white haired, dances with him in a deadly duel until he suddenly smiles and closes his eyes, lifting his lightsaber in surrender. Anakin watches in unholy detail through the veiled lenses of his tomb as his own leather-clad hands swing his crimson blade, and Obi-Wan disappears into the brown of his robes, cut down by his brother in arms.
"No!" Anakin howled, coming back to reality to a world of burning tears. His master, young once again, released his hold on Anakin's shoulders and stood, backing away as Anakin fell once more into his mental pit of anguish, guilt, and turmoil.
"Know yourself."
"No," he whimpered again, refusing to accept that he could commit such evil. Tears continued to burn in his eyes, falling to the blankets of his bed as he saw himself strike down the man who raised him, trained him, and became his best friend over and over, the voices insisting upon their torture.
"You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!"
"I hate you!"
"And now the student will kill the master."
"You were the Chosen One!"
"I love you."
His eyes flew opened as he concentrated, breathed like he had taught himself to do over these undetermined days of internment as he focused on her melodious tone. In and out, he told himself, in and out he breathed, and slowly the voices receded, and all that was left was him and her, dressed in light and dark, standing in a chariot, a riotous coliseum of winged spectators demanding their deaths, but for now, it was just him and his Angel.
"You love me?" he asked incredulously. Sighing at her revelation come too late, Anakin briefly tore his gaze from hers. "I thought that we had decided not to fall in love. That we would be forced to live a lie, and that it would destroy our lives."
She bit her lip alluringly, and Anakin found himself entranced by the motion she adopted when she was nervous. "I think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway," she breathed, and she began leaning towards him. "I truly," closer, "deeply," closer, "love you."
Anakin evened out his breathing as her lips met his in his memory – yes, he was sure it was real – and he focused on her beautiful face, relishing in the calm it brought him all the way to his bones. In all the chaos, the pain, the hardship that he felt was his life, she was his anchor, his lighthouse in the storm always calling him safely back through the fog. But, the image quickly turned into one of pain, suffering, and death as she whimpered his name, her beautiful face scrunched in agony. He began to sob and curled up into the blankets as in his memory, though hazy unlike the rest, her features slackened and she breathed her last, her loss tearing a void that could never be filled.
Obi-Wan turned from the door and allowed it to silently shut behind him as he walked with purpose towards the Council Tower. He had been called to Anakin's new accommodations, his old room, after two weeks without seeing his friend, but the healers had assured him that the young Jedi was perhaps ready for some outside influence. His memory in its fullest still eluded the Chosen One, and he had still held his tongue to everyone, but they wanted his rehabilitation to begin as he stabilized, regardless of the nightmares. Their first port of call had again been Anakin's former master.
After his initial failure to reach Anakin in any way other than pain, the healers had chosen to keep Anakin isolated, tending to his physical recovery from his short incapacitation, the only aspect of his healing that they knew how to deal with. Now that he was fully healed, however, it was time to address his still absent memory and consciousness, which they could sense was still massively fragmented and incomplete. Anakin's mind was sluggishly piecing itself back together, and both the Council and the healers wanted to help it on its way.
The rush of pain Obi-Wan had felt upon even stepping up to the familiar door of Anakin's old quarters was stifling, and the master had quickly opened the door with the intent to help his former pupil. Seeing Anakin bolt upright in his single bed, escaping the throws of another nightmare, clasping his head in his hands, the thick fog of sadness, guilt, and fear hanging around him, Obi-Wan went to him, his concern for his brother overriding his fear of triggering another attack. He figured Anakin's mind was already doing a good job of that as he projected the chaos within without restraint and for all to hear, stronger than Obi-Wan had ever felt from Anakin before. Obi-Wan heard his voice again accompanied by Ahsoka's, and a few he didn't recognize pulsing in Anakin's head, one gravely, almost elderly, but overwhelmingly powerful, while the other was determined, livid, and strong despite the pain Obi-Wan felt beneath it, the voice of a young man.
Calling to his friend, grasping his shoulders tightly, but not too much, a small measure of relief overcame Obi-Wan when Anakin's tortured gaze flew to his and their eyes met, blue to steel, and it seemed that his old apprentice had been able to quell the madness of his mind trying to fix itself. He had tried to talk to Anakin, weigh how he was feeling, did he like his quarters, did he remember anything, when the glaze of Anakin's eyes melted into sharp consciousness and he screamed his first word since he had awoken. Not wanting a repeat of his mild head injury, Obi-Wan had stepped back, resigned to his impotence as Anakin began thrashing again. Just when he thought he would have to call the healer, Obi-Wan felt Anakin still and calm himself, and as his whimpering and cries turned from tortured to mournful, the one face Obi-Wan saw through Anakin's unshielded projecting made him resolve to return to the Council.
They had called for the wrong person.
Obi-Wan reached the Council chamber and felt for familiar presences within, and was relieved to only feel those of Masters Yoda and Windu as he stepped through to the circular room. The sun was beginning its slow descent on the day, filling the chamber with golden orange light as he approached Yoda and Mace.
"Master Kenobi, not with young Skywalker, you are." Yoda observed, and Obi-Wan shook his head as he took his seat and faced the two masters.
"No Master, and I do not feel as though I am the right person for this task."
"Why not?" Mace asked, and Obi-Wan leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hand before stroking his beard.
"When I went to see him… when he looks at me all I can sense from him is pain, doubt, and a very strong feeling of guilt. When he looks at me, he doesn't like whatever his mind is making him see, and I wonder if given our time in training and the Clone Wars his memories of me are simply too violent to be of any real help."
Mace and Yoda glanced between each other, the Grand Master nodding and turning back to Obi-Wan. "Senator Amidala, you wish to suggest, hmm?"
"Masters, when his mind was forcing whatever agony it has been subjecting him to as it heals, she was the one thought, the one face that calmed him. If anyone has any hope of truly aiding his healing, it is his wife."
Though Mace stiffened at the word, put off by the very mention of Anakin's transgression, Yoda's nod brokered no room for argument. "Bring her to him tomorrow, you will, Obi-Wan, if you feel it is the right course to take."
"I do, Master, and thank you." Obi-Wan stood and bowed to them both before exiting the chamber and pulling out his comlink as he made his way to his speeder. After a few blinks, a very tired Padmé answered his call.
"Dormé, could you take her please? Thank you. Amidala."
"Padmé."
She sighed at the sound of his voice, and Obi-Wan heard a small coo in the background. "Obi-Wan, how is he?"
That was something the Jedi Master had always admired about the Senator, she was intuitive and always knew what was happening, getting right down to business when necessary and making small talk when not. "I'm afraid he could be better, Senator. I have some news if I may come speak with you."
"Yes, of course, Obi-Wan, we're just trying to put the twins down now. They should be asleep at least for a while when you arrive." He smiled.
"I would very much like to see them."
"You're always welcome, Obi-Wan."
"I'll be there shortly, Senator."