"Anakin turned himself in. They're taking him to the temple right now."
His heart grinded to a painful stop and for a moment Obi-Wan forgot how to breath. His ears were ringing and the buzzing was getting louder with every breath he tried to take. Suddenly, the sound turned into the hum of a lightsaber. Obi-Wan could almost feel the blade as the heat approached his face, burning and blistering his skin.
He could see Anakin aiming the blue blade at him.
I'll show you how sorry I am!
"Ob...an!"
The pain was back. Everything was on fire. Obi-Wan tried to yank his head away, but couldn't. Desperately, he clawed at whatever was holding him down. Suddenly the grip let go and he took the chance to back away from the bed, until his back collided with a wall.
"Obi-Wan?" a voice pierced through the static in his head. Somehow it sounded like Anakin. He pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out these hallucinations.
"Obi-Wan, you must try to calm yourself. I'm not going to hurt you," Anakin spoke again. Clenching his teeth almost painfully, Obi-Wan pressed the back of his head against the wall behind him. This was not real. Anakin was not here. Something tapped gently against his mind and instantaneously he slammed the walls into place, shutting himself off from the outside world. If he couldn't protect his body, he could at least protect his mind.
The presence withdrew again, but that didn't help him. Reality and memory were blurred together and Obi-Wan could no longer differentiate between them. His mind was fighting a battle over which he had no control.
"Obi-Wan, come on!" shouted Anakin again, but this time he suddenly sounded different.
No, this was not his Padawan.
He paused.
"That's right. Just breathe."
Something in his head snapped back into place. The pain receded again, leaving a numb sensation behind. These were the Halls of Healing, and no one had attacked him, either. It was all in his head.
"Plo?" he choked, fighting to get his breath to even out again.
"Yes, It's me," his friend spoke, even though it sounded like they were talking through a wall.
Obi-Wan put a hand over his eyes, letting the resulting pain ground him again. "Sorry," he murmured quietly.
"No, it's okay," he heard Plo moving and apparently crouching down next to him, "Is it alright if I touch you?"
Obi-Wan nodded curtly. Gently, Plo put his hand on his shoulder and for a moment he lost himself in the physical touch.
How many times Anakin had made that very gesture. After they had succeeded in battle or when they had bantered with each other. Sometimes Obi-Wan thought he could still see the smile of his former student.
But that was an illusion. A brainwave. Everything he had was broken apart. He stumbled among the rubble and did not know where to go. His demons were lurking everywhere.
Obi-Wan pulled his legs to his chest and folded his arms on his knees, resting his head on top. "What are you going to do with him now? With Anakin, I mean."
A moment of silence followed, and briefly he wondered if he had imagined Plo as well, but then his friend finally spoke. "That depends on his testimony... And also on yours."
Plo sounded unnaturally distant, almost reserved. Obi-Wan knew that his friend could not give him the answers he sought, and that he was both overwhelmed and shocked by the whole situation. In a way he sat between the chairs. On the one hand, he had his duty as a council member, and on the other, he was closer to their lineage than probably anyone else inside the order. His lack of emotions was only a testament to his own helplessness.
"I don't know if I am ready for that," he breathed, his fingers clenching into the fabric of his trousers.
"I know," Plo replied, "But the incident has been all over the media... We are expected to give an answer. We can't wait much longer, the Senate is putting pressure on us."
Of course, those rapacious politicians had their fingers in the pie again. First Ahsoka, now Anakin. It was always about the reputation of the Republic, so an incident like this could not be negotiated behind closed doors.
"When is the trial scheduled for?" asked Obi-Wan wearily. There was no way out. Either he faced the questions or the Senate would take it from there.
"The day after tomorrow," Plo paused briefly, "And the chancellor will be there."
"And half the galaxy will be watching," Obi-Wan huffed, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. It wouldn't just be Anakin being asked questions. But they would also interrogate him. Especially him. He had been responsible for Anakin since he was a little boy. His behavior, his actions - all that was just a mirror of what Obi-Wan had tried to teach.
"They will hold me partly responsible," he noted silently.
The chancellor had always shown a special interest in Anakin. Of course, he would stand against Obi-Wan. He had the Jedi Order behind him, but he had already seen what happened when their help was needed. From Padme he could not expect to turn against her own husband. He could not and would not demand that of her. Bail would be on his side, but unfortunately his vote would not be enough to overrule the chancellor.
Effectively, he stood alone.
He would bear the brunt of Anakin's mistakes.
"I won't let you down," his friend replied.
Obi-Wan could only laugh hollowly. "Don't make promises you can't keep. We both know how this ends."
"I'm not going to let you take the fall," Plo grumbled, settling down next to him against the wall.
"I don't think I have a choice."
"There's got to be some way we can convince the majority of the Senate."
Obi-Wan scuffed in utter disbelief. "The chancellor has his way with words. He knows how to twist facts so that in the end truth and lies are almost indistinguishable."
Somewhere he had no strength to fight any further. Even if it was not fair. But when had it ever been. Obi-Wan was hardly used to it any other way. So why should it be different now?
Plo was silent, but Obi-wan could feel his inner turmoil in the Force. A sad smile settled on his face.
"It's not your fault, Plo," he rumbled shallowly, his eyes fixed on the endless blackness, "Some things are beyond our control."
"This should not be beyond our control." A flash of anger surged through the Force, almost unnoticeable.
Obi-Wan had nothing more to say about it. Absently, he rubbed his arms as a tremor plagued his body again.
"I want to go home," he muttered after a moment.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Obi-Wan...," Plo tried, but Obi-Wan interrupted him.
"I doubt my condition will change much by the day after tomorrow," he bit out, "So if I'm going to stand before the Senate, at least I might as well go home."
With a sigh, Plo stood up again. "You know I can't decide like that. Only Master Che can."
Obi-Wan heard a movement in front of him that he couldn't place, but he could sense that Plo was facing him.
"But maybe I can persuade her...," his friend continued to speak, "Come, give me your hands. When you're sitting on the floor, you don't look very convincing."
Even though he didn't feel like getting up, he knew that if he really wanted to go home, he had no other choice. Still, he spared himself the humiliation of blindly groping for Plo's hands and instead silently held out his.
His friend, fortunately, did not comment on his action and simply grabbed his hands and pulled him up.
"Careful," Plo warned him and led him over to the bed, where Obi-Wan dropped down.
"Are you sure you feel well enough to go home?"
Obi-Wan screwed up his face and rubbed the back of his neck. If he was honest, he didn't feel up to anything.
He expelled a breath. "I don't know. But who knows what will happen after the trial...," his stomach tightened convulsively, "At least I don't want to have spent the rest of my time here."
Instead of calling for Master Che, Plo sat down next to him. "What Anakin did... is not your fault. I know you gave everything for the boy. More than anyone else would have. You were always there when he needed you."
Obi-Wan's throat was dry. "And yet, it wasn't enough... I wasn't enough."
He didn't know where it had started to go wrong. Maybe with his mission as Rako Hardeen. Maybe when he decided to pretend he didn't know about Anakin and Padme. Maybe when he had failed to rescue Qui-Gon on Naboo.
"No, Obi-Wan. The Council... no, we took advantage of your connection. Knowing full well that it would drive a wedge between the two of you. We overrode your will, multiple times. That Anakin felt he could no longer trust you was our fault."
"And what difference does that make now?" snapped Obi-Wan, breathing heavily, "Everything I held dear is gone... It doesn't matter who's fault it is."
When Plo fell silent, Obi-Wan lifted and rubbed his temples, wincing as the movement pulled at his injuries.
"Can you just go get Master Che?" he sighed.
His friend paused for a moment before finally standing up. "...Sure," he replied unnaturally quietly.
As Obi-Wan heard the door close again, he wondered if he had been unfair. After all, Plo only wanted to help him. And he was perhaps one of the few people who understood what was going on inside him.
The sound of footsteps made him sit up again. A moment later, the characteristic hiss of the door was heard and Master Che, together with Plo, entered the room.
"I heard you want to go home," she stated bluntly with her typical healer's attitude.
Too tired to argue with her, he nodded shallowly even if it made him feel sick again. "Yes," he answered as confidently as he could.
Vokara's presence shifted from agitated to compassionate. She had expected a longer answer. Some kind of justification. Arguments so that she would let him go. But he gave her nothing.
The speech she must have had on the tip of her tongue suddenly seemed to escape her.
"Obi-Wan, I don't think this is a good idea. Your fever hasn't gone down and your wound still needs care. Let alone the fact that you can barely walk two steps."
Her words hurt, but they rang with truth. "Well, apparently that's sufficient for the upcoming trial," he shot back bitterly.
"I've argued several times against it having to be this early."
Obi-Wan could not see it but apparently she had given Plo a dark look, so he felt the need to defend himself. "We know it's too early, but a later date was not allowed."
Vokara grumbled and began pacing up and down, her shoes clacking on the tiled floor. "If it were up to me, he wouldn't be participating at all."
This time it was Plo who huffed exasperatedly. "We all know what happens if Obi-Wan doesn't show up. It would only make things worse."
Obi-Wan heard her sigh. "I don't like it."
"Does that mean you're going to let me go?" he interrupted them.
Vokara stopped in her tracks. "Definitely not, if you don't have someone to look after you."
Before Obi-Wan could say anything, Plo jumped in again. "I can do that... If that's okay with you both, of course."
In his mind's eye he could practically see Master Che's face, clenching her jaw and looking back and forth between them.
"Fine," she agreed after a while, "But only if you come back tomorrow for a check-up. And if your condition worsens, you stay here again."
"I can live with that," Obi-Wan replied lightly, now at least slightly happy to at least get out of this wretched place.
"I'll get you your medicine," Master Che supplied and left them alone again.
"You haven't seen my robe by any chance?" Obi-Wan asked sullenly, not really expecting an affirmative answer.
Plo chuckled. "Indeed I have," there was a rustling noise, and moments later Obi-Wan felt the soft fabric against his hands, "Here."
"Thanks," he rasped a bit surprised, grasping the fabric and quickly putting it around himself.
"Your boots are next to you as well."
Moving his foot to the side, Obi-Wan was indeed met with the old familiar leather and didn't hesitate long, putting them on. Still, neither helped him feel the same as before.
Just at that moment, Master Che entered the room again. "Here are the painkillers, you can take another one in the next few hours in case the pain comes back."
Obi-Wan nodded and took the packet held out to him, letting it disappear into the pocket of his robe. "Is there anything else I should be aware of?"
"Be careful when you walk, your sense of balance isn't the same."
He hummed resignedly in response. "I noticed that already."
"I'm not saying this to spite you, Obi-Wan. It's going to take time for you to adjust, whether you like it or not."
"I know," was all he said in return.
"Well, then you're free to go."
Obi-Wan pursed his lips and then stood up a little shakily, but he stayed on his feet this time. "Thank you, Master Che."
"Just doing my job, Obi-Wan," she replied gently, "Take care of yourself."
He smiled shallowly in response. "I don't make promises."
Plo approached him and Obi-Wan understood the unspoken request and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's get you home."
Together, they left first the medical room and finally the Halls of Healing, Plo always one step ahead and Obi-Wan letting himself be guided. The way seemed longer to him than ever and the many looks of the other Jedi he felt at his back did not make it easier for him.
Sometimes they had to stop short as the strength drained from him, Obi-Wan sitting down on one of the long window sills at the gigantic windows of the temple where he could have watched Coruscant's skyline, had he still been able to do so.
All the way Plo was nothing else patient with him. But still Obi-Wan could not shake the feeling that all this was not right.
After half an eternity, they finally arrived at his quarters. Although this meant that he could finally hide from the eyes of the other Jedi again, Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was ready to return here. Even outside the door, he could still feel traces of Anakin and Ahsoka's presence. Plo lingered somewhere behind him, almost like a shadow. He wasn't sure if he could handle it. Obi-Wan had always been a very private person. And now he had been deprived of even the simplest activities. Resignedly, he felt for the biopad. When he finally found it, he put his hand on the panel and waited until the door opened.
When it opened, Obi-Wan was almost overcome by the imprints in the Force. Over the past few days, he had focused so much on using the Force to gain impressions of his surroundings. Even on the way here, he had had to struggle not to gather too much information. So many people, all of them strong in the Force. It was giving him a headache.
More or less confidently, he stepped over the threshold. It was strange to be here again. Now that no one was here anymore. This apartment had always been so full of life. He had never admitted it, but he had enjoyed having Anakin and Ahsoka around. Even if, as a Jedi Master and member of the Council, he would have been entitled to a larger single apartment in a separate wing.
Obi-Wan took another step and bumped his foot against something metallic lying on the floor.
Stiffly he bent down and picked it up, holding it in front of him as if he could see it. Except, he didn't need to see to know what it was.
A droid part. One of Anakin's little experiments.
Plo shifted behind him, his insecurity leaking into the Force.
"Let me help you clear the floor a little," his friend tried to help him and began to push past him, but Obi-Wan stopped him. His fingers still clutched the droid's piece as if it held all the answers to the questions he had.
Suddenly, a surge of anger overcame him. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip. The metal began to bend. But that didn't stop him. Something had built up inside him that wanted to get out right now. Before he could help himself, a scream escaped his lips and the metal part in his hands was crushed so that nothing remained of its original form.
Breathing heavily, he let go of the scrap metal. With a clack, it hit the ground somewhere in front of his feet and came to rest there.
He heard Plo put something aside, probably one of the many datapads, and approach him cautiously. "Are you okay?" he asked tentatively.
Obi-Wan swallowed around the lump that had settled in his throat. "I... I think I need a moment to myself."
A hand was placed gently on his upper arm. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. No, no one could help him with that.
"Would you like to rest?"
Instead of answering, he moved past Plo, the movement almost automatic. He could find the way to his room even without seeing it. When he put his hand on the door, he stopped.
"There's nothing you can do, my friend. I'll manage," he said distantly.
Obi-Wan sensed that Plo was obviously uncomfortable with this, but still his friend did not contradict him. "As you wish," he retorted, "… well, if you need me, just give me a call."
"Sure," the words slipped out of his mouth, "Thanks."
As Obi-Wan pushed open the door, Plo spoke one last time. "I'll come back in a few hours, okay?"
A sad smile settled on his face. "If it makes you feel better, go ahead."
With that, he finally entered his room and shut the door, leaving Plo behind. In the Force, he felt his friend linger for a moment, until finally his presence also slipped away.
With solitude the silence returned. Obi-Wan could close his eyes just like that, but he wasn't ready for that. He couldn't face Satine yet again. He dragged himself sluggishly over to his bed, automatically stepping around the plant that stood at the foot of it. Carelessly, he placed his lightsaber and commlink on the nightstand and sat down.
For a moment, he just kept staring ahead. Not that he knew what to do with himself. He was no longer used to the stillness. Obi-Wan didn't know why, but something made him reach for the small wooden figurine on his nightstand that he'd had ever since he was brought to the temple. It was from his parents. A kind of parting gift. A small fox. Carved by his father and beautifully painted by his mother. He remembered the bright orange-brown tones of the fur. And the small engraving on the belly of the animal that bore his name.
As he sat there, holding the little fox figurine in his hands, he wondered what would have been if the Jedi had never come for him.