Chapter 3 – Dooku

Author's Note: I think this fic will consist of a number of arcs, each of which will hopefully be four chapters. :P

To the guest who reviewed: Don't worry! I don't give up on fics. This will be finished, and for now, updates will be monthly. :)

WARNING: Self-harm, suicidal thoughts/feelings, blood, and general darkness!

~ Amina Gila

By the time morning comes, Anakin hasn't managed to sleep more than a few minutes, something which Ahsoka definitely notices, because she keeps giving him sidelong looks, lips pressed together as if she's physically trying to restrain herself from commenting. It might bother him another time, but he feels like the slightest breeze will knock him off his feet right now. He's exhausted, and even trying to relieve the tension by burning his skin with his lightsaber – he didn't have anything to cut himself open with – and then healing it, didn't help.

Anakin knows that they'll be leaving for Coruscant soon enough, though he doesn't know exactly when. Everyone is standing on the palace landing platform, and he's subtly trying to keep as many people between himself and Obi-Wan as possible.

"Once again, you have all distinguished yourselves in the eyes of the Republic," Padme declares with a smile. "The people of Naboo are in your debt."

"It's all part of the job, My Lady," Anakin replies, giving her a small, genuine smile, some of his tension dissipating. Her expression softens, and he promises himself that he'll go visit her so they can spend some much-needed time together and de-stress.

Padme turns to leave, followed by the Nubian queen and her retinue, Palpatine, Mas Amedda, and Ahsoka. Windu begins speaking with the Chancellor as they leave, and Anakin notices that Obi-Wan is hanging in the back. Great. His former master seems to have decided that they'll be talking about everything right now. Hopefully, he can control himself enough to assure Obi-Wan that he's not mad at him. There's no need to make things messier than they already are, and the knowledge that he's still… grieving will stay with him.

"You look terrible," quips Anakin. His words have a tad more bite to them then he'd intended, and he forcefully tones it down. Part of him hopes that Obi-Wan will apologize and make this easier, that he'll beg – not beg, because Obi-Wan doesn't beg, but that's the idea – for forgiveness. If he does, Anakin will let this go without a second thought.

"Being a criminal's not easy work," sighs Obi-Wan.

Anakin keeps his expression the same, trying not to think too much about how he can feel Obi-Wan's presence again, washing over him like a balm, giving him the anchor that he's been craving. He can't let anyone know. He needs to pick his next words carefully. "If I had known what was going on, I could have helped you," he points out, voice conversational enough that he doesn't actually give away the pain that's destroyed him. "Too bad the Council didn't trust me." He takes a few quicker steps, moving ahead of Obi-Wan as he stops.

And maybe they have a good reason not to. Maybe he really is that unstable that they thought it better to teach him a lesson the hard way, forcing him to grieve senselessly because it nailed home the importance of letting go. If it was a lesson, Anakin doesn't see it. All he sees is that he needs to hold on even tighter than before, anything to prevent himself from facing this again. He doesn't think he could handle it without snapping completely.

"Anakin, it was my decision to keep the truth from you," Obi-Wan tells him, and his entire world comes to a standstill. What? He hardly even feels the hand on his shoulder. It's not enough to ground him. If anything, the touch makes him sick, and he jerks away so his former master won't feel the tremors running through him. "I knew if you were convinced I was dead, Dooku would believe it as well.

"Your decision?" he echoes numbly. It doesn't drown out the screams of denial in his mind because this is – it's wrong. How could Obi-Wan have done something like this, something so personal? He could understand and accept the Council ordering him to go along with it, but he thought he'd meant something to Obi-Wan. Apparently… not. He thinks that realization hurts even worse, because Obi-Wan is – he's everything to him, and he just doesn't understand how…

"Look, I know I did some questionable things, but I did what I had to do," Obi-Wan explains. "I hope you can understand that."

Understand? What is there for him to understand? That he'll never be the same again? That he's only now beginning to realize how someone could die from grief? That he enjoys hurting himself? He wants to turn and scream at Obi-Wan, but he can't. If he starts, he'll never stop, until there's nothing left of him. Why didn't you think this would destroy me? He'll prove that he learned nothing, that he's incapable of being what the Council wants him to be if he lashes out. Despite how often Obi-Wan lectured him about letting go, he never once thought that he'd go to this extreme to drive in the importance of it.

"Of course," he agrees flatly. "It was for the Republic." His eyes are dry, but he wants to weep. He can't even believe that he's saying this. "You did what you had to do." He turns finally, giving Obi-Wan a smile which probably looks as fake as it feels. He doesn't know if he'll ever stop seeing Obi-Wan's dead body in Ahsoka's arms when he sleeps, or the desperate, grief-stricken, panicked look in her eyes when she looked up at him.

Something unnamable flashes through Obi-Wan's gaze, and Anakin wishes that he didn't have to look at the face of a stranger. He can't read that face, can't sense what Obi-Wan might be thinking. "I understand if you're angry," Obi-Wan adds even more quietly. Still no apology. And why should he apologize if he was trying to prove a point to Anakin?

Anakin huffs out a breath, shaking his head and crossing his arms. He digs in his mechanical fingers as tightly as he can without alerting Obi-Wan. "I'm not angry," he corrects, which is the truth. Obi-Wan must be able to sense it too because he seems a bit taken aback. No, he's not upset. He's broken. He doesn't think anything can mend this wound or undo the pain. "But forgive me if I'm a little… surprised by the turn of events." Let Obi-Wan make of that what he will. Anakin doesn't care.

He turns and strides away. Obi-Wan doesn't stop him, which is a relief, and he doesn't see anyone familiar as he heads to his guest quarters. He's alone. Anakin immediately goes into his bedroom and locks the door behind him. In the privacy of his own room, Anakin lets himself fall onto his bed, burying his head in his hands. He wants to cry, but the pain inside him is far too great for tears to relieve.

With a sudden frenzy, Anakin pulls up his left sleeve, staring down at the new scars marring it, a number of bruises decorating the otherwise smooth skin. He'd really gone overboard with the healing last night, and it had tired him but not enough. Digging through his pockets again, he finds a small screw which he hadn't noticed previously. He double-checks his mental shields, sealing them off completely and clamping down on his bonds with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. He won't let either of them – or any Jedi – realize something to be amiss.

The Force curls around him almost protectively, seemingly trying to shield him. It's almost laughable in a way. The Force is, for all intents and purposes, Anakin's father, and only now does it try to help him. Well, better late than never, he supposes, and he's a little short on help right now. Even if all it does is cry with him, that's better than ignoring him altogether.

The screw is sharp, though not nearly as effective as the knife-like piece of durasteel in his quarters at the Temple. No matter. He jabs it into the skin on his arm, a sick thrill running through him when it pierces through. He rips it through flesh, knowing that it's cutting deeper than usual, not that he can help it. The burning, searing pain travels up his arm, and Anakin lets out a breath at the heady feel of it. It's everything he needed, and so much more. He doesn't even take note of the blood running down his arm and dripping onto his robes.

By the time the first gash is done, the heartbreak and grief have receded, leaving Anakin with a mess to clean up. It's roughly two to three inches long, the edges jagged where the screw didn't cut so much as it tore skin. And it's bleeding profusely, throbbing badly enough that he actually winces when it finally registers. Pressing his gloved hand over the wound, he hurries to the 'fresher so as not to get blood all over the floor. His robes won't really show it – they're black after all – and his leather glove is easily washable.

When Anakin gets there, he stands there for a few long minutes, watching the sink stain red from the bleeding. He must have nicked a vein quite badly. Shrugging it off, Anakin tries to staunch the blood, pressing his right hand tightly over the wound. It doesn't seem to help that much. A chill snakes its way down his spine at the realization that he might have dug it a little too far. He doesn't want to ask anyone for help, but it could need stitches… No. He'll be fine. He knows how to deal with a small gash.

He knows he shouldn't hurt himself, but as long as no one knows, it won't matter. He can live. He can face Obi-Wan without breaking apart. He's fine. Everything's fine. Except he's not, and he's the only one who knows it.

Sighing, he uses the Force to pull a small cloth to him, which he presses onto the wound tightly, turning on the cold water and running it over the cloth and his arm to staunch the flow and wash away the blood. Many minutes later, he's gotten the bleeding under control and rinsed away all traces of his activities from the sink and himself. This will be his secret, one he'll happily take to the grave. There's absolutely no reason that he needs to share this. It's un-Jedi-like, and Anakin really doesn't want to know what might happen should the Jedi find out.

If this was his punishment for caring too much and too deeply, then what will they do to him if they learn that his grief was just as severe if not more so? They'll see it as if he doesn't respect himself and his body for his actions, and Obi-Wan will be disappointed in him. More than anything he doesn't want that to happen. He yearns to prove himself, to show that he can be useful, even if he is different than they are.

And then again, he's the Chosen One. Would it really kill the Jedi to treat him with a bit more understanding? He's – he's still human, even if only half. He still functions like all other humans do… doesn't he? Or maybe not. He flexes his arm, looking down at the scabbed over gash and wondering whether or not he should put a bacta patch on it. Finally, he does, deciding that inflicting another injury would be easier than trying to deal with what might happen should it start bleeding again later and at a point in time when he's unable to attend to it, thereby revealing his secret.

And besides, for some reason, he has a feeling that everything isn't over yet. Maybe Dooku failed to get the Chancellor, but he might try something else, especially if he's still on planet. It would be best to focus on that and forget about Obi-Wan's betrayal, at least for now. When he leaves his room and goes in search of Padme and Ahsoka, he's not even surprised that no one looks at him twice. As far as they're concerned, he's probably acting normal. He's trying to, anyways, and hopefully, it's working.

**w**

By the time night has fallen, Anakin finds himself escorting Palpatine down the darkened halls in the palace. "We will leave as soon as Queen Neeyutnee's banquet is over," the Chancellor is telling him. "I also want to say goodbye to Senator Amidala. She has been a very gracious host."

A banquet? He didn't hear anything about it when he spoke to Padme briefly earlier. But then again, they weren't exactly in private, and their conversation lasted for no more than a few minutes. "Padme didn't mention a banquet to me," he comments, trying to keep the mood light and focused on something other than him.

"Perhaps she meant it as a surprise," Palpatine suggests. Anakin can't hold back the swell of fondness towards her. Undoubtedly, she did, probably hoping that even a small surprise would make him feel better. Well, she's not wrong.

As they continue walking, the Chancellor chuckles quietly. "I must say, the lengths the Jedi will go to is nothing short of incredible. I assume the brilliant plan to disguise Obi-Wan Kenobi was yours." Normally, the assumption that a successful plan was his would give him pleasure, but now, it's like twisting a knife in his heart.

"No, it wasn't, sir," Anakin replies honestly, keeping his tone neutral. He refuses to give any indications about how much he's hurting. "I was in the dark as much as you were."

"Really?" Palpatine's surprise is palpable. "Interesting. I was under the impression the Jedi always worked as a team."

So was I. Anakin swallows down the misery and pain, trying to find something to say to the Chancellor which doesn't consist of pouring out his heart. He doesn't want to talk about how he's feeling. A whisper of danger from the Force snaps his awareness to his surroundings as the door to the banquet hall opens in front of them.

An all too familiar figure is sitting at the head of the table. "Welcome," Dooku intones smugly.

"My gracious, it's a trap!" exclaims Palpatine.

"Chancellor, stay back!" orders Anakin, pushing him backwards as the door closes behind them. Two MagnaGuards emerge from around a pillar and head towards him, their electrostaffs crackling. One glances a blow on his back, but he doesn't even flinch at the jolt of electricity, letting it instead numb his pain and sharpen his senses.

He delves into the Force, trusting it to guide his movements and actions. There's nothing for him to fear. "You should have quit while you were still alive, Dooku," hisses Anakin, pointing at him, as fury begins to smolder within him.

"Fighting off the entire Jedi security force would have been difficult," chuckles Dooku as he rises from the chair. "But now that they are gone," he continues, igniting his red lightsaber, "Defeating you alone will be an easy task."

Anakin narrows his eyes, anger burning with a vengeance. He's tired of being treated as though he's a lesser, as though he's never good enough, as though he's doomed to fail the Jedi's high expectations. He knows his thoughts are of the Dark Side, but it feels good to let his pain be drowned in anger, if only this once. Maybe he'll regret it later. Maybe.

When the MagnaGuards lunge at him, he ducks the initial blow, bringing his now ignited blade around to stab through the first. It falls, and he kicks it back, whirling as he jabs the second with his body and tries to cleave it in half with his lightsaber. It blocks him, and they trade blows, Anakin drawing on the power his anger can offer. It feels right. It feels good. He's enjoying it, and that fact no longer scares him.

A powerful stroke cuts off one of the droid's arms, and as it falters, Anakin brings his blade around to slice it in half. It falls, and he turns to face Dooku once more. "Chancellor, get out of here," he orders.

"Good idea," Palpatine agrees, a bit shakily. Anakin stalks towards the Count, not even flinching when he hears the Chancellor's exclamation behind him. "Unhand me!" He'll be alright if, and only if, Anakin destroys Dooku.

He jumps onto the table, stalking across it to get to Dooku, leaping down as their blades crash together. They trade blows, Anakin holding his lightsaber mostly one-handed as his anger gives him a strength that he's only ever felt this strongly once. On Tatooine. He pushes the thought aside. Dooku slowly backs away, as Anakin hammers blow after blow on him, seeking a way to break through his defenses.

Finally, Dooku throws out a hand, pushing Anakin backwards despite his best efforts to dissipate it. He's found it irritating how good the Count is with things of a telekinetic nature. Before Anakin has a chance to recover, Dooku lifts chairs, dishes, and utensils, hurling them at him with the Force. Anakin lifts his mechanical arm to block the barrage, cutting through the chairs with his lightsaber. Still, two forks embed themselves in his leather glove. He rips them out without a second thought, advancing on Dooku once more, anger reaching even greater heights.

Anakin charges, leaping through the air and swinging his lightsaber down for what would be a killing blow, whether Dooku tries to block him or not. The Count lifts a chair in the nick of time, and the blue blade slices into it up to the hilt. Dooku holds the chair there, while Anakin presses forwards, slowly moving it closer and closer to the Sith's face. He wants to end this here and now. Suddenly, Dooku pushes him and the chair backwards. He hits a column, wincing slightly at the pain as he falls to his knees. The pain also gives him more focus, clearing his head from unwanted emotions as he draws on unfiltered rage.

He rises slowly, lightsaber still ignited and narrows his eyes. Anakin lunges towards him again, and their blades lock. Dooku pulls back, attacking Anakin in return, though it's no use. Anakin forces him backwards, through the doorway and into the moonlit halls of the palace. He can feel Obi-Wan approaching through the Force. He only needs to keep the Count distracted until Obi-Wan arrives, so they can defeat him together.

The MagnaGuard drags Palpatine backwards by his collar as Dooku continues backing up. The duel is fast and furious, and when they reach a flight of stairs, Anakin slams his lightsaber into the Sith's with enough force that Dooku falls backwards, red blade held aloft to defend himself. Anakin crashes their blades together, pressing downwards with brute force, and closes his prosthetic around Dooku's throat, strangling him. He's on the verge of obtaining victory, and it's thrilling, even if it shouldn't be, and it shouldn't; that's not the Jedi way. After all the pain Dooku has put him through, Anakin will finally have something to show for it.

The Sith claws at Anakin's hand with his left one, his panic mounting enough that Anakin can feel it, trying in vain to dislodge the grip. Finally, he extends his fingers, unleashing a barrage of lightning which catches Anakin off guard. He can't hold back his cry of pain, as he's thrown backwards and slammed into a wall. The momentum is strong enough that he hits another column as well before collapsing to the floor of the palace, gasping for breath. This time, it seemed worse somehow, maybe because Dooku was desperate.

Slowly, despite the excruciating pain, Anakin forces himself up to one knee, swaying as he tries to channel his pain into the Force. He can't bring himself to stand fully, still shaky from the electrocution. As it is, he's trying to calm his racing heart and air isn't entering his lungs normally. Breathe, Skywalker, he hisses at himself.

"Are you alright?" asks Obi-Wan, as his footsteps come to a halt next to Anakin, touching his shoulder.

Anakin turns, unable to look at that foreign face for more than a second, his grief suddenly erupting anew. "Come on," he says by way of answer and runs forwards once more, still able to fight despite the agony screaming through his every nerve and muscle.

They pursue Dooku as he and the MagnaGuard take Palpatine through an exit towards an awaiting shuttle. Anakin races ahead of Obi-Wan, leaping through the air, blue blade swinging towards Dooku's back. The Count blocks the blow from behind without even turning, spinning only when Obi-Wan joins in the duel. Together, they rain a furious assault down on the Sith, and Obi-Wan finally darts past, slicing the MagnaGuard in half, as he goes to rescue the Chancellor, while Anakin keeps Dooku occupied.

Once Palpatine is clear of the shuttle, Anakin pushes against Dooku's blade more furiously. The Count retaliates by pushing him back hard enough to knock him off the boarding ramp. He lands on the landing platform below, glaring hatefully at Dooku as he stands in the shuttle. Perhaps they did fail once more to kill him, but at least everyone is safe. That's all that matters.

"Well done, Master Kenobi," Dooku states finally. "You are a worthy adversary. I cannot say the same about your young apprentice."

He acts as though Anakin didn't even hurt him, nearly kill him, as though there isn't a purple ring of bruises around his neck, and it infuriates Anakin. Is it not bad enough that the Jedi refuse to acknowledge him and his achievements? Must his enemies do the same? Why is this all he faces? Wherever he goes, it's as though he's meaningless to everyone… except maybe Padme and Ahsoka. They do care. They do. He knows it.

As the shuttle disappears, Anakin extinguishes his lightsaber, clipping the hilt back to his belt. At the same moment, Padme and a number of security guards rush out, but it's too late. Dooku is already gone. "Chancellor, are you alright?" exclaims Padme worriedly, rushing over to him.

"Yes, thanks again to the heroics of the Jedi," Palpatine assures her as she and Anakin help him up to his feet. "That's the second time today," he adds with a small smile. Anakin can't help but check the Chancellor quickly with the Force to ensure that he's uninjured. He is, and that knowledge allows him to relax somewhat.

"We specialize in heroics, Chancellor," Obi-Wan comments dryly. His voice ruins the humorous undertone of the words, at least in Anakin's opinion, but he doesn't say anything. What's there for him to say? If anyone notices how he's feeling, they don't say anything or give any indication that they realize.

"As long as I live, no harm will come to you, Your Excellency," Anakin vows sincerely, tilting his head in respect. Palpatine is one of the few who support him entirely, and he intends to show his appreciation for that, even if proving himself to the Jedi is more important than trying to live up to the Chancellor's expectations.

"Hmm, well, here's to your long and prosperous life, Anakin," Palpatine replies with a small smile, resting a hand on Anakin's shoulder. It's warm and comforting, but not the same way Obi-Wan's is. It doesn't give him the same feelings of home and safety. "One shudders to think where the galaxy would be without the Jedi," he adds, glancing over at Obi-Wan, still smiling.

Turning, he walks back towards the palace, Anakin following him along with Obi-Wan and Padme. "Anakin, you should go to the healers," Obi-Wan tells him quietly. "You were electrocuted, and they should check you over."

He grimaces at the thought, but he knows that he has no reason to refuse. His body is still incredibly sore, and some bacta should make him feel better. He doesn't know if he wants to or if he deserves it though. Right now, the pain and exhaustion are dulling his emotional turmoil. The moment he's clear-headed, that will change. Force, he wants to go back to the front lines. At least then, the knowledge that his men's lives depend on his actions will allow him to push aside everything else.

"Fine," he agrees, keeping his tone neutral enough that his reluctance isn't obvious. "I'll go."

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