Obi-Wan couldn't sleep.
He'd tried everything, from counting backwards in Narlanian, which had the longest possible words for their numbers, to breathing exercises, trying to trick his body to sleep, to rolling incessantly. Part of him was surprised that Qui-Gon hadn't picked up on his insomnia, but another part of him was relieved. He didn't want to answer his Master's questions with another half-hearted response, which he'd been doing all day.
He had spent most of the time since he'd awoken in meditation, trying to figure out what had happened to him. He'd finally emerged several hours later with the sobering knowledge that against all rational logic, he was indeed thirteen years in the past, his body reverted to its twenty-five year old self. He'd barely dared to believe it, but the Force, unfortunately, didn't lie.
Qui-Gon had been trying to talk to him ever since, to ask him about what he had seen, but Obi-Wan had been able to give him the impression that everything was fine. It had taken quite a bit of effort on his part, as he certainly didn't feel like a twenty-five year old padawan, but he'd earned himself a reprieve by promising to discuss it once they had returned to Coruscant.
Qui-Gon had held up a finger then, his eyes darkening from the seriousness in his gaze. "I'll let this go Obi-Wan," he had said quietly before they left to join the others for their evening meal. "But only for now. And if I get the slightest hint that your focus is being disrupted again, you are sharing, even if I have to break down your shields myself."
Obi-Wan had swallowed at that, the part of him that would always be Qui-Gon's apprentice quailing.
"Am I clear?" Qui-Gon had asked, raising his eyebrows, and Obi-Wan had nodded.
A loud snore interrupted his thoughts, shattering the silence and making Obi-Wan groan.
Those snores alone could convince me that this is the past, he thought, stuffing the pillow over his head. He'd never met anyone in his life that could make such a racket while remaining fast asleep, oblivious to the irritation they were causing.
His Master had broken his nose some time during his life, and Obi-Wan knew it was the source of the man's wretched snoring. He remembered the first night they'd shared an apartment, how the sound had startled him awake and he'd been convinced that the walls were going to shake apart around him. After enduring it silently for an entire week, with Qui-Gon wondering why his new apprentice was looking more and more worse-for-wear, he decided that something had to be done.
He'd plotted revenge.
Now, he knew the Code backwards and forwards and knew that a Jedi must never take revenge, so he mentally renamed it, calling it 'His Plan to Teach Master Qui-Gon a True Lesson', and studied all types of stealth shields that could be used to trick a Force-sensitive. He'd done it on his own, fully realizing the consequences should someone discover what he was up to, but he'd been a possessed thirteen year old, absolutely determined to find a satisfying way to regain his normal sleep habits.
After about a month of hard work and trying out all the mental shielding he'd learned, he put his plan to the final test. When his beloved Master started up with the miserable snoring, Obi-Wan started snoring himself, in nearly an exact replica of the horrible sound. He felt a flash of delirious joy when he sensed his Master jolt awake, startled by the racket, and heard a low groan echo along their bond. His shielding had worked well enough in making Qui-Gon believe he was asleep and not purposely antagonizing his Master, though he had a feeling that was because the older Jedi was still half-asleep and not because Obi-Wan was particularly skilled.
He'd kept it up the routine for a few weeks, until his Master apparently discovered soundproofing shields, which not only kept his fake snores from being heard, but also kept almost all sound out. Part of Obi-Wan had felt slightly irked, as his Master had found a way to thwart him, but his goal was accomplished and he had his peaceful nights back.
Eventually he'd found a way to "program" his body to snore at night (which was a simple, modified Force-command), and he'd done so purely out of gleeful revenge. He'd certainly paid for it, however, because he hadn't found a way to reverse it. That was until he'd been knighted, and given access to texts that had previously been forbidden.
Soundproofing wasn't going to help him tonight, though. Something in him felt restless and uneasy, and no matter how much he'd meditated on it, he couldn't begin to make sense of it. The Force was being strangely silent on why it had sent him back in time, only telling him that it had. It had curled around him, helped him release the grief that lingered, and though he continued to shudder whenever he thought of the future he knew, he was able to function without giving his Master any cause for further alarm.
Because he knew that at even the slightest hint of something troubling him, Qui-Gon would make good on his threat, and batter his way past every shield, no matter how much pain it caused Obi-Wan.
Let's hope it never comes to that, he thought, tightening the pillow around his head when the snoring grew louder. Qui-Gon is very much my father, but how would I begin to explain? If he knew the truth, if he saw any of my memories of Vader... Obi-Wan shivered. I don't know how he'd react. I don't know how the Council would react, and I don't think I even want to know.
That brought him to an important decision. He knew of Anakin's fall; would he do anything to try and stop it? Should he do anything, or could he, for that matter? Had the Force sent him back so that he could fix his mistakes, or repeat them in a completely different fashion? Was he doomed to watch the destruction of the Jedi a second time around, to see his dearest friends torn to shreds by a lightsaber, to stand by helplessly as things spiraled into chaos all over again?
After all, he'd done his best the first time around, and look where that got him: one fallen apprentice and a flaming, painful death. What could he possibly do differently with this second chance, if it really was that?
Part of him wanted to wake Qui-Gon up right there and then, to talk to him about everything and ask his advice. He had to fight to keep his body still, as it itched to rise and shake the man awake, but his will finally won out, and the desire faded. He couldn't talk to Qui-Gon; at least not until he was certain of his own feelings on the matter. He wasn't completely convinced that this was all some elaborate hoax, no matter what the Force told him. His Force-sense had been tricked before, and he wasn't about to take any chances.
He still didn't know what he was going to do though; he still wasn't sure if his actions would make the slightest difference. Could he stand watching Anakin fall a second time? Should he… should he end it all now, before it had the chance to even begin?
Listen to yourself! Part of him screamed. What are you talking about? Murdering an innocent boy simply because of something that may or may not happen? What you're suggesting is absolutely insane!
The voice was right, and he knew it. He could no more kill Anakin than he could cut off his own foot, no matter how much he tried to rationalize the act. Obi-Wan had tried to put aside his emotions when facing the Jedi-turned-Sith, with the proof of Anakin's crimes staring him in the face, and he'd been unable even to beat his former apprentice, let alone kill him.
So if he couldn't kill the boy, what could he do? There was nothing, and he knew it.
What is this? What is wrong with you, Kenobi? When have you ever given up so easily? Part of him snarled. For someone who prided themselves on their resilience, you certainly aren't doing a good job of showing it. Stop wallowing, and do something!
But what? He shouted back, huffing in impatience. What could he possibly do to change things?
Stop being such a narrow-minded Jedi and think! There's always something you can do. Begin by accepting that this is the past and work from there! Take this as an excellent opportunity to fix your mistakes, to keep that horrible future from happening! Can you really, in good conscience, let everything unravel a second time? You'd be persecuted if you did!
If he really had been granted the chance to undo his mistakes, how could he fix them when he didn't know what they were?
You still have to try, part of him said, finally calmer. You're letting your fear of failing all over again stop you from doing what you need to do, and you know it. So stop arguing with yourself and start thinking.
Obi-Wan heaved a heavy sigh, sinking against the thick cushion of the sleep couch. His better side was right; even if this was some hoax, he couldn't let that stop him from trying to undo his failure.
There was only one problem that he could think of, though, if he accepted that he was living his past again.
He had no idea why Anakin had decided to become a Sith, so he had no idea where to even begin to counter it.
So think, he told himself! Things had been so murky in the end that he probably shouldn't have been as shocked and upset as he had been upon learning of Anakin's betrayal, but he just couldn't begin to understand what might've motivated his former apprentice.
I was his Master, Obi-Wan raged silently, his fingers digging into the pillow and the familiar, sickening grief rising in his throat. I should have seen. I should have known
He'd been down this road before, though, and he knew where it led. He hadn't seen anything. He had sensed something, of course, and been concerned for Anakin, who had been severely lacking in balance. He had arrogantly assumed, however, that the young man would fall back on his teachings to give him the footing he needed.
And when he hadn't…
Then something was wrong with the teachings.
That sudden thought shook him to his core, chills skittering down his spine and dancing along his skin.
He felt sick, so very sick.
It was my fault. My fault! I'm the one who couldn't teach properly, the one who refused to see what was so obvious. I should have given him to Master Yoda instead of taking it upon myself to do anything when I was barely a Knight!
So where had he gone wrong, then? Had it been his sheer lack of experience?
No, he thought, dismissing that idea. Many other Knights, some even younger than he, had taken apprentices, and they didn't have nearly the amount of training that Obi-Wan had been given under Qui-Gon. None of them had failed as he had done.
So again, where had he gone wrong? Where had he blundered so badly that the young man had turned to the Dark Side for answers?
I've been mulling over it for what feels like hours, he thought with an inner grumble. I knew I should've meditated on this as well, and I certainly am not getting any peace and quiet here.
With that thought, and another particularly loud snore from Qui-Gon, he finally pushed himself up, mindful of the cabinets overhead this time around. He pulled back the privacy curtain and rolled off the sleep couch, groping in the dark for his boots. He found them and shoved them onto his feet before feeling his way to the door and sliding out into the dimly lit hallway. He drew a deep breath, straightening his rumpled tunics and running his fingers through his hair (while cursing how short it had become), and set off down the hall, being mindful to keep his movements quiet lest he wake some light sleeper.
Obi-Wan was unsure of just where he was headed; he let his feet lead the way, taking what he thought were utterly random twists and turns through the corridors of the ship.
When he reached his destination, he had to wonder if the Force hadn't guided him in some way.
He mentally kicked himself. The Force was always guiding him; wasn't that part of being a Jedi?
Anakin.
His feet had led him to a maintenance bay, with an astro-droid he recognized as Artoo-Detoo powered down in the corner. Jar Jar Binks, the Gungan Qui-Gon had rescued all those years ago (but not really, he told himself, since it had happened only a few weeks ago), lay on a bench beside it, his feet propped up on the droid's dome, and his blanket barely covering his torso.
Obi-Wan merely brushed over those details; his gaze had been drawn instantly to the little figure huddled in the corner of a couch. A thin, brown blanket was tucked around his shoulders, his arms were wrapped around himself, and his face had been buried against his knees until Obi-Wan's entrance.
His head had shot up when he realized that someone was watching him, and he looked away in embarrassment when he saw who it was.
"He-hello," Anakin whispered, his voice cracking ever so slightly, and part of Obi-Wan twisted sharply.
He's been crying, Obi-Wan thought as he watched the boy swipe furiously at his eyes, easily sensing the shame Anakin felt at being caught. Part of him wanted desperately to comfort the child, to scoop him up into his embrace and ease the pain he could sense, but the rest of him was frozen, tempted to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
"Is…" he began, the word slipping from his lips before he could stop it, and Anakin's gaze flicked to him briefly, reflecting the spark of curiosity Obi-Wan could sense.
"You're up awfully late," Obi-Wan said at last, finally settling on something good and neutral. He hoped to make Anakin think he hadn't seen the boy's tears, so as to lessen some of the humiliation he could feel coiling in the other.
"So're you," Anakin responded, his voice still shaky, but definitely bolder. He sniffled loudly before wiping his runny nose on the back of his sleeve, and part of Obi-Wan quailed at the familiar movement. How many times had he been after Anakin about that? How many tunics had been ruined because the boy was too lazy to find a tissue?
"Don't off-worlders ever sleep? I saw Padmé walk by a little while ago. Or is it just a Jedi thing?"
Yes, this certainly was the Anakin he remembered. Even though Obi-Wan had seen him in a vulnerable position, he bounced back before anyone had realized what had happened. He was the one who gained strength in the worst situations, and Obi-Wan had to fight the part of him that had begun sobbing.
This just couldn't be, he thought. Surely something had to be different… how else was he going to stop this little boy from becoming a complete monster?
"I think it must be an off-worlder thing, if you saw a handmaiden up at this hour," Obi-Wan said, struggling to keep his tone light, and he took a tentative step into the bay. "But I do know many Jedi who are notorious insomniacs, me being one of them, so perhaps it's a little of both."
A soft laugh answered him, making his heart leap into his throat. It was the laugh he remembered, the one that always preceded a comment somewhere along the lines of, "Master, you've got the strangest sense of humor."
"Mister Obi-Wan, that's a weird way to tell a joke," Anakin said, and Obi-Wan shut his eyes, steeling himself against the tears he could feel forming.
A Jedi was calm, he told himself. Emotions did not rule them, no matter what the situation.
"You think so?" he could hear himself saying. "You're the first to say so. I wonder if people have been laughing at me behind my back then, if I really do joke strangely."
Another, stronger laugh made him open his eyes, and he caught the brief smile that followed it.
"But who could laugh at a Jedi?" Anakin asked. "They'd be too afraid of you throwing them into walls or something."
"Well, first of all, you're laughing," he said, and Anakin's eyes widened. "But don't worry. I don't toss people into walls simply because they're laughing at me. They have to give me a much better reason, and even if they did, I doubt I could bring myself to do so."
"Why not?" Anakin asked, his arms wrapping around his knees, and Obi-Wan found he was standing near the other end of the small bench. How his feet had carried him there without him noticing was a mystery.
"Well, to start with I'm not allowed to. The Code I live by doesn't allow me to act from anger," he said and watched Anakin frown a little as he processed that information. "And besides, would I really want to go around tossing people into walls? It's such a waste of time and energy, if you think about it."
Anakin laughed again, the happiness behind it slamming into Obi-Wan, but oddly enough, it brought him comfort.
He frowned inwardly at that; why had Anakin's presence, which had caused him pain only a few moments ago, suddenly started soothing him?
Just trust it, part of him whispered. Treat it as a chance to start over. Didn't you find yourself wishing that you'd been warmer to him when you'd first met? Hadn't you thought the beginning of your apprenticeship could've gone smoother if you'd only taken the time to get to know him as Qui-Gon had?
"So're you feeling better?" Anakin asked, bringing Obi-Wan from his thoughts. "Mister Qui-Gon seemed really worried about you, when he couldn't figure out what was wrong, and to tell the truth…" Anakin drew a deep breath. "It was a little weird seeing him like that. I mean…"
"My Master does a very good job of appearing unruffled, even during the worst of times," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "He rarely drops that Jedi mask, as some call it, but when he does, you know something is really wrong. Qui-Gon seems like the type who could fix anything, so when he can't, it's a bit of a shock."
"You're tellin' me!" Anakin said with a familiar eye roll, one that never failed in making Obi-Wan grin. "After the race, Padmé told me that even when I stalled out at the beginning he didn't lose his cool. She said that she'd been terrified more than half the time, but Mister Qui-Gon, he'd told her to relax and have faith."
"That sounds like my Master," Obi-Wan said, sharing a smile with Anakin. "He certainly excels in projecting the calm Jedi are known for. Not everyone is so capable."
Anakin frowned faintly. "Well, I've only met you and Mister Qui-Gon, and if you guys are anything like the rest of the Jedi, I'm sure they'll all be perfect at it."
"We do try, some harder than others," Obi-Wan said. "But don't go spreading that around the Temple. If Master Yoda found out, my shins would be bruised beyond belief."
"What?"
Obi-Wan nearly smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I'm sorry, Anakin, I forgot. Master Yoda is a Jedi Master who resembles, if you'll pardon me, a troll. He's probably even shorter than you, with green skin, and he carries this walking stick that he uses to hit people with. He also has a saying about trying; how it doesn't really exist. Either you do something, or you don't; that kind of thing."
"Hm," Anakin said, frowning as he worked over everything Obi-Wan had said. "He sounds pretty mean, if you ask me."
"He can be, but he grows on you," Obi-Wan told him. "He's also one of the strongest Jedi."
"He'd have to be, to get away with hitting people," Anakin grumbled, and Obi-Wan surprised himself by laughing.
"Well, to finally answer your original question, yes, I am feeling better. Still a little shaken, but definitely better."
Anakin tilted his head slightly to one side, in a manner that Obi-Wan knew foretold that he was about to ask something. "What'd you see then? It musta been awful, if it messed you up as bad as it did."
"It wasn't all bad," Obi-Wan answered, trying to avoiding answering the real question. "There was some good to it as well; it just ended poorly."
"So you could tell what was going on? It all made perfect sense to you as you saw it happen?" Anakin asked, leaning forward in an expression of eagerness. His eyes had locked themselves on Obi-Wan, who began squishing the panic it instilled. "You were able to tell what it meant and stuff?"
"Well, yes," he answered slowly, unsure of where the line of questioning was heading. "But don't think that's a typical response to a… a vision." He might as well call it that; it made things easier to deal with. "Most of the visions I have are mere fragments, completely disjointed and without any clues behind them. Whether it's good or bad, I normally have no way to know how to avoid it or make it happen."
"Hm," Anakin said again, sitting back heavily, and Obi-Wan found himself leaning forward, his head dipping in an attempt to recapture the boy's gaze.
"Why do you ask?"
He knew the answer before he'd finished his question. Anakin was the most powerful Force-sensitive the Temple had ever seen; he was having visions of his own.
"Do you want to tell me about it?" Obi-Wan asked quietly, every part of him waiting on tenterhooks. The Anakin he remembered had barely shared anything; his nightmares he might share occasionally, but he kept his visions to himself or sought out Master Yoda for guidance.
He simply hadn't trusted Obi-Wan with anything that he kept close to his heart.
"You'll… you'll laugh," Anakin said, his voice small as he curled in on himself.
"Pa-" He caught himself just in time, wincing inwardly. Not calling Anakin as he was accustomed to was going to take a lot of effort on his part; it was so easy to slip. "What makes you think I'll laugh?"
Anakin shrugged, not looking up, but Obi-Wan found himself drawing courage he never knew he had. If this had really been a situation between him and the Anakin he remembered, he would've backed down at this stage, choosing to let the boy alone and assuming he'd come to him if he truly had a problem.
I made too many assumptions, he thought with chagrin. Perhaps that was why Anakin never really spoke to me; I never showed him I would listen and care about what I was hearing.
Well, time to counter that then.
"Anakin," he said softly, crouching before the boy without thought, and gently touching a hand to a tiny knee. "I give you my word, as a Jedi, that I will never laugh at anything you say."
The boy looked up, his eyes shining, and Obi-Wan swallowed around the tightening of his throat, trying to smile. "Unless, of course, you meant it to be laughed at, but those situations don't count."
His statement succeeded in making the boy smile, and he returned it. "So will you share your vision with me?"
"I…" Anakin bit his lip and Obi-Wan felt his heart leap unexpectedly. "I saw Padmé, and she was leading a big army into darkness," the boy whispered, and Obi-Wan felt that part of him was singing with joy. He'd succeeded in an area he'd failed in before; Anakin was talking to him!
"And?" he prompted, never taking his gaze from the boy.
"Well, it was scary, you know? Because Padmé told me she doesn't like fighting, that her people are peaceful. So why would she be leading an army?" Anakin asked, looking at Obi-Wan expectantly, who sat back on his heels as he thought.
"Perhaps it's symbolic," he mused, trying not to give away that he knew what most likely was going to happen. After all, his memories didn't include this conversation, or the way he'd collapsed earlier, so perhaps a different future had been set in motion. "She and her queen are heading to the Senate to argue their case, and I'm sure she's going to encounter resistance along the way. But you might be seeing the future, if the queen decides to take matters into her own hands."
"I hope she doesn't, if it means Padmé won't have to lead an army," Anakin said, mulling over what Obi-Wan had told him.
"Was there anything else to it?" he asked after a moment. "Or was that it?"
Anakin shook his head, his gaze meeting Obi-Wan's before darting away, and he could sense embarrassment growing in the boy. "There was something else, but…" He drew a deep breath and Obi-Wan waited as he chewed on his lip a little before finally nodding once. "It was about my mother."
Part of Obi-Wan was reeling, yelling at himself to tell Anakin that he had to let go of the woman if he ever hoped to be a Jedi, but Obi-Wan ruthlessly squashed it. That was something he would've done if Anakin had been his apprentice, but the boy was not, and he needed someone to listen sympathetically, not condemn.
"What did you see?"
"She…" Anakin started, his face scrunching and his voice wavering. "She was in pain. She kept calling out to me, asking for my help, but I…" Anakin swallowed, and Obi-Wan felt as though part of him was melting from the sorrow he sensed radiating off the boy. "I couldn't find her. I was running and running, looking everywhere, but she was hidden, and I…"
Anakin drew back then, and Obi-Wan could see tears gathering in the boy's crystal blue eyes. "I couldn't help her. I tried so hard, but it didn't do anything. I couldn't save her." There was a loud sniffle as Anakin buried his face in his hands and Obi-Wan couldn't take it. He couldn't sit motionless any longer.
"There, there," he whispered, moving to Anakin's side and gathering the boy in his arms. To his infinite surprise, Anakin didn't pull away. Instead, he latched onto Obi-Wan, his face pressing against the Jedi's shoulder and his arms winding around the man's neck. Sobs wracked the child's body and Obi-Wan shut his eyes, rubbing Anakin's back as he murmured a steady stream of nonsense, trying to be of some comfort.
"Visions can be awful," he said at last, unsure if Anakin could even hear him. "Especially when they're about ones who mean so much to us." He felt Anakin nod against his neck, and Obi-Wan tightened his grip when he sensed shame growing in the boy.
"It's all right to be upset," he said softly. "You have every right to be. There's nothing wrong with your reaction."
"But I…" Anakin began, his voice muffled by Obi-Wan's tunic. "I promised! I promised her I wouldn't look back!" There was another sniffle, and another shudder ran through the boy's body. "How'm I ever gonna be a Jedi if I'm so weak?"
Obi-Wan stiffened, unable to completely control the response, and after setting his jaw, he gently coaxed the boy off him, yet still held the child by his shoulders.
"Anakin, look at me," he urged. "Your reaction does not make you weak. Do you hear me?" The boy nodded, peering up at Obi-Wan through tear-heavy lashes. "It means you have a heart that cares for people deeply, and that can be your greatest strength."
Anakin sniffled again, biting his lip. "You… you really think so?"
Obi-Wan gave him the best smile he could muster. "Anakin, in part of the vision I saw earlier, I was forced to watch Qui-Gon die, while I was trapped behind an energy shield. He was impaled by an enemy, and I could do nothing."
The boy gasped, the information startling him from his tears.
"And you saw how I reacted," he continued, meeting Anakin's wide-eyed stare. "So no, padawan, I don't think you're weak. When faced with the thought of losing something I love like a father, I nearly lost my mind. You, on the other hand, were reduced to tears. There's a pretty big difference there, wouldn't you agree?"
Anakin stared at him and he could sense several emotions rising the boy.
"You just… you just called me 'padawan'," was the first thing that Anakin blurted out and Obi-Wan winced inwardly. So much for controlling his tongue. "Was I a Jedi in your vision? Is that why you knew my name when you woke up?"
"Yes to both questions," he said, sighing a little. "But let me explain something about visions, Anakin. As I said earlier, they're notoriously difficult to decode, and even more difficult to tell if they're actually going to happen. You may very well become someone's padawan, but you also might not."
"My mom and Qui-Gon might not die then, right?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "That Master Yoda I told you about, I'm always going to him with my visions, and even he can't completely understand most of them. Every time I ask for advice, he tells me the same cryptic thing."
He cleared his throat and Anakin looked up at him expectantly.
"'Be careful you must, young padawan, when sensing the future you are,'" he said in his best Yoda-impression and Anakin cracked a smile. "'Always in motion the future is. By attempting to counter the future you see, set in motion a worse one, you could. Remain mindful of happenings, you must, but let the vision cloud your mind, you must not.'"
Anakin laughed. "If he talks so funny and hits you with sticks, why do you always go to him?"
"Because he happens to be the wisest Jedi," Obi-Wan said, smiling. "And even though I don't like the answer, it hasn't led me astray yet."
Only my arrogance has.
"But how can you sit by and do nothing? How do you know that it might happen because you didn't do anything to stop it?" Anakin asked, suddenly frowning, and Obi-Wan let the boy slide into his lap.
"How do you know it might happen because you tried to stop it? What if the actions you take, thinking you're going to counter the vision, actually make it take place?" he asked as Anakin curled up against him, and he absently rested his chin on the boy's head. "Visions cause all sorts of problems for everyone, especially when you can't get them out of your mind."
"So that's why Yoda told you not to let it affect your decisions," Anakin said and Obi-Wan nodded.
"Being a Jedi is about considering every side to a situation, as well as following the will of the Force," he said and felt Anakin nod a little. "If you make a decision simply because you think it'll stop a vision from occurring, without stopping to calm yourself, you haven't considered the other sides that exist, and you could have the situation blow up in your face."
His words were met with silence, and part of him tensed in fear until he forced it to relax, summoning the Force to lessen it. Things had gone surprisingly well so far; Anakin had accepted him in a way that Obi-Wan certainly couldn't remember ever happening. He'd held the boy after his nightmares, certainly, but never like this. Anakin had never been so relaxed in his presence, and it sent a wild, powerful hope coursing through his veins.
He just might succeed after all.
"I think I see," Anakin said at last. "It's kind of confusing, but I'll do my best not to let my dreams affect my choices, and think about all the possible sides. I'm going to be a Jedi, after all, and if that's what they do, then I'd better get started."
Obi-Wan smiled, squeezing the boy gently in an encouraging hug. "I know it's hard, Anakin. Being a Jedi is difficult; don't let the calm we project fool you. There're rules for just about everything; sometimes even the strictest of Jedi can find themselves chafing under the Code we live by."
I know I did.
"But is it really all that bad? Is it enough to make you stop being one?" Anakin asked and Obi-Wan fell silent. Here was the boy he remembered, full of direct, perceptive questions that unnerved many.
Sometimes, he thought, shutting his eyes at the onslaught of triggered memories. When I couldn't sit by at Melida-Daan, and had to help those people, even if it meant abandoning the Order. I almost lost Qui-Gon in the process.
Sometimes, he thought, when the Council didn't listen to me, when they ignored my concerns about Anakin. You'd think, as wary as they were about training him, they'd have more interest in my qualms concerning his temperament.
Sometimes, he thought, when I watched Anakin struggle to release his emotions, to let go of his anger and fear. When the Code failed to help him, failed to give him the comfort it brought me.
You hid behind it, part of him whispered. You didn't truly know how to help Anakin, having been raised as a Jedi for your entire life. You'd known how to control your emotions ever since you were small. How could you teach a child without that training? When you didn't have the same footing to begin with?
Emotions were the key, he realized, feeling as though someone had hit him with a sack of bricks. Anakin had been raised by his loving mother, and forcing him to let go of that before he'd been ready, to deprive him of that support, that care, had been foolhardy. It was little surprise then, that Anakin had turned to the Dark Side, where emotions were glorified.
I was certainly of little help, keeping him at arm's length at every turn, he thought with a touch of bitterness. Every time my heart told me to reach out to him, I brushed it off as letting emotions dictate my actions. However, what if that was what I needed to do?
Anakin had been very much the unconventional Jedi, what with being allowed training at so late an age. What if his training needed to be completely unconventional as well? What if Obi-Wan had been like the father Anakin had so desperately needed in his life, instead of some stony teacher, suppressing any expression of the warmth he'd truly felt? Would things have ended as poorly?
I thought that I was teaching him as Qui-Gon taught me,Obi-Wan mused, but my relationship with Qui-Gon is as far from the typical Master-padawan relationship as it can get. We're family in everything but blood, and our bond is that much stronger because of it.
He definitely hadn't treated Anakin as family, no matter what he'd felt. It was no wonder the boy had felt so lost, ripped from everything familiar, and Qui-Gon's death hadn't helped anything.
"Mister Obi-Wan?"
The voice broke him from his thoughts, and he opened his eyes to find Anakin peering at him in confusion. "You sure you're all right? I thought you'd passed out again."
Anakin frowned then. "You're not… crying, are you?"
Obi-Wan touched his cheeks in surprise to find that they were slightly wet from a few tears that had somehow escaped. He laughed a little, part of him marveling at his lack of control, and he wiped them away.
"Maybe a little," he said. "Your question just brought up some memories that still hurt."
"I'm sorry," Anakin said, and to Obi-Wan's surprise, the boy meant it. He slid back into Obi-Wan's lap, whose arms easily closed around him, and Anakin responded by tucking himself against the Jedi. "I didn't think."
"You couldn't have known," Obi-Wan responded, touched to the depths of his soul. His Anakin had never tried to console him, even when he knew Obi-Wan was upset by something, and he'd never apologized from his heart when he'd been the cause.
Anakin yawned then, reminding Obi-Wan just how late it was.
"I should leave you now," he said softly and felt Anakin's stiffen. "Everyone will be up sometime soon, and I'm sure you want to get some sleep tonight. If you don't, Qui-Gon will be after me about keeping you up all night."
"Then I won't tell him," Anakin said, his voice again muffled by Obi-Wan's tunic. "I'm not that tired. Can't we stay up talking more? I like talking to you."
Obi-Wan gave Anakin a warm squeeze before pushing him away as gently as possible. "As flattered as I am, you do need your sleep. I'd rather not have a bad-tempered Anakin on my hands tomorrow."
"Even if I promised not to be?"
Obi-Wan smiled at that, noting the hope shimmering in Anakin's blue eyes. "Why don't you just tell me why you don't want to go to sleep? Are you afraid that you'll dream about your mother again?"
Anakin wilted slightly, his shoulders drooping and his gaze darkening as it flicked away. "Maybe," he muttered, and Obi-Wan tugged the forgotten blanket around the boy's shoulders. He shivered before pulling it tighter, his eyes training on the metallic floor of the ship. "But it's not just that. This place isn't… it isn't home."
His voice dropped in volume as he spoke and Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, silently urging the boy to look at him.
"Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" he offered, something he'd never done with the Anakin he remembered, and watched several emotions flicker across the boy's face before vanishing behind a frown.
"Couldn't I just stay with you tonight?" he countered and Obi-Wan blinked before watching Anakin wince. "Sorry. I know that was stupid, but…" The boy's frown darkened and his shoulders drooped a little more. "I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan heaved a mental sigh, even though part of him was grinning. His Anakin had never asked that, even when Obi-Wan had known he'd wanted to very desperately.
"No, it's not stupid," he said, and Anakin began staring up at him. "And I just might have a solution for this problem."
He stood then, holding out his hand for Anakin to take. The boy looked up at him dubiously but tentatively slid his hand into Obi-Wan's, and he tugged Anakin to his feet. "Come on. We're going to make a short stop at the galley before we get some things from my quarters, but we have to do it quietly. I don't want to wake anyone up."
"Okay," Anakin said as they started from the bay. "But what are we getting at the galley?"
Obi-Wan smiled, and judging by Anakin's expression, he'd succeeded in making it mysterious. "You'll see."