This was another old one I did. Originally it was going to be all original characters, but somehow it turned into Anakin and Obi wan? So then it became an alternate ending the fight on Mustafar, where Anakin is the one who wins and realizes just what he’s done.
Well, honestly, there are
many undeniable facts but this one is the biggest of them all.
Where there is a
Skywalker, there is a Kenobi and visa verse.
A team, the
Team, never one too far from the other and if one should falter in
battle, the other is there to boost the other up.
It
has been so since the start of the war, just an undeniable fact as
Skywalker, the unstoppable force, meets Kenobi, the immovable object
and instead of clashing, they make each other greater in their time
of need with companionship and care.
So
when Anakin Skywalker goes missing during a scouting mission, of
course Obi-Wan Kenobi will come looking for one of the GAR’s
greatest poster boys along with himself, the redhead on swift steps
trying to find his fellow Jedi.
He
will come looking for his former padawan and battle brother on a
planet full of sand that is warping the Force and making it hard to
track down the man.
Obi-Wan
is relying on his troopers to help him find the CIS camp and Anakin
but in the end, Grievous finds them.
The
former kaleesh turned cyborg
more than anything flesh and blood, seemed to be waiting, droids
lined up on each side of a small hill made of rocks among the dunes
with magna guards at his side, sabers unlit in his hands as the sun
baked down on them.
Not
that droids generally felt the heat and if Obi-Wan was to take a
guess, these had internal coolant functioning to make them desert
fighters.
No
matter, Obi-Wan was here for Anakin, but if he could wind up Grievous
a little bit and get his information, then that was fine by him.
“General!
What a surprise though I thought I smelled rank oil in the air when
we arrived.” He greeted as cockily as he could, subtly poking
around with the Force and practically getting a slap over the ‘hands’
so to speak by the static sensation of the Force.
No
way of finding Anakin like that so Grievous was his only chance.
There
was no way the other wasn’t involved in Anakin’s disappearance in
some manner, but what was the best way to lure information out of
him…
A
wheezy chuckle escaped the cyborg, echoing over the dunes separating
them and interrupting Obi-Wan’s line of thinking as he focused
fully back on the spiteful amusement Grievous was demonstrating.
Something
was wrong.
Obi-Wan
could feel it in his bones, he had a bad feeling since the moment
Captain Rex had informed him that Anakin had gone missing but now he
was sure that something was wrong.
“I
would ask if you are looking for something General Kenobi,” The
cyborg wheezed out, shifting one arm slightly in a beckoning motion.
“But I’m rather sure that you’re missing something. Or should I
say, someone.” The
brutal cyborg gloated.
If
he had a face, it would be leering, of that Obi-Wan was sure, sweat
rolling down his own temple from the heat and he was sure he’d get
a lecture from Cody once more about getting a heat stroke and Helix
complain about not wearing head wear on a burning day like this.
His
mind couldn’t focus on that however as
he was sure that Grievous had Anakin.
“Now, what would give you that impression?” He drawled, desperate
to keep his worry out of his posture.
Cackling
as loudly as his damaged lungs allowed him, Grievous gestured at
someone behind him, a magna guard appearing with something gripped in
one hand
not holding it’s spike.
His
heart froze over, staring at the limp ragdoll of a person dropped in
front of Grievous, the blond hair and black armor and tunic obvious
to him as outrage spread through the troopers that had followed him,
Rex letting out a low, desperate growl.
Blood
was pounding through Obi-Wan’s ears, his eyes straining through the
sun to stare at Anakin even as Grievous was saying something about
struggle and stubbornness and yet Anakin wasn’t moving and
Grievous was waving about Anakin’s lightsaber as if it was his now.
He
had taken Anakin’s lighstaber, stolen it from the brightly laughing
man with enough raw Force powers to be a storm even when relaxed,
whose joy was infectious even to those who were nulls in the Force.
Why
wasn’t Anakin moving?
Grievous
foot shifted forward, resting on Anakin’s body before pushing him
off the rocky outcropping among the dunes, sending the limp body
rolling down among the stones, in a cloud of sand and why wasn’t
Anakin bouncing to his feet?
Laughing
and cursing about sand while desperately shaking himself and turning
to taunt Grievous?
He
rolled to a stop, no more force or gravity to keep him rolling,
landing on his back with his mouth open and his curls in a mess
around his face, just a child’s ragdoll toy having been thrown
about instead of a human being.
Dried
blood clung to his face, coated his hair, bruises lined from his jaw
and down into his tunic and his mech hand was twisted and unnatural
as he laid in the sand, unmoving and Obi-Wan felt something close to
nausea as he noted Anakin’s leg was twisted abnormally.
Anakin’s
chest wasn’t moving.
He
wasn’t breathing.
Anakin
was gone.
That
wasn’t possible.
It
was The Team, Kenobi and Skywalker and Kenobi was always suppose to
go first.
The
master always went first.
Obi-Wan
was suppose to go first, dying at Anakin’s side.
Obi-Wan
felt his legs buckle, his body feeling like it was cut from it’s
string even as he locked knees to remain upright, his shoulders
slumping and his face falling forward to shield it from everyone.
And
Grievous laughed at
the sight even as Cody desperately tried to keep order with his men
and Rex threw insults at Grievous.
If
Grievous wasn’t more metal than he was flesh and blood, he might
have had the Force, might have gotten the warning as he gloated
wheezily at Obi-Wan’s slumped form. He might have had an indication
of what was coming.
But
there were only two trained Force sensitive on that planet and only
one that was conscious and would never warn Grievous.
And
if he had been a wiser man, he would have seen the danger for what it
was as Obi-Wan slowly raised
his head, burning yellow
staring up at Grievous as blood started to roll from the corner of
his eyes, a grotesque mimicry of tears.
Gods
flee when good men go to war and wise people run
when those souls scream in grief.
And
Obi-Wan Kenobi has so much anguish and grief to give, an unfathomable
well of sorrow barely contained in one person.
Unleashed
by the loss of the single soul Obi-Wan Kenobi thought he would never
have to part with.
Dropping
the corpse to the ground, Qui-Gon glared down at the woman in disgust
before spitting at the ground.
The
dark side always left an aftertaste in the blood, the darker the
person, the more obvious the taste and Qui-Gon himself had never
quite found himself liking it, no quit the opposite, he found it to
be a despicable aftertaste, akin to a sweet treat with a nasty
aftertaste.
He
glanced to the side when Commander Cody cautiously approached with
his blaster in his hands, nodding lightly to the man before glaring
down at the dead woman. “So, who was she?” He questioned in
distaste.
“Asajj
Ventress, she’s been the Count’s pet assassin from the start of
the war,” The commander answered quickly, carefully kicking at the
boot of the woman before settling and tucking the blaster back on his
belt with a sigh of relief. “And a torn in our sides, she’s
killed a lot of vode and she’s targeted General Kenobi quite often…
as I’m sure you already knew.” Cody glanced at him.
Pulling
his lips back to expose his fangs, Qui-Gon nodded.
Yes,
he had heard her ranting from miles away, his advanced hearing being
the only thing that had really allowed him to hear her and the squad
of droids that were lining up for a ‘sneak’ attack.
He
had left his sons to look after Obi-Wan for now and had instead slid
of into the night, taking only a small team of troopers with him as
he
didn’t want them to fire on him if he sneaked back.
Luckily,
they were useful, they made it easier to get to the real threat by
taking out the droids so Qui-Gon could focus on taking out the pale
skinned woman.
Glancing
at Cody once more, Qui-Gon frowned faintly at the complicated set of
emotions in the other man. “…Is something wrong?” He
questioned, his voice rumbling as he pierced the darkness of the
night easily, knowing the other could see him through the night
vision of the helmet.
Sighing,
Cody raised his hand and wobbled it. “Believe me when I say that
I’m glad the witch is dead and gone, she was a real aaray o’r cuun
shab… she murdered so many of my brothers as I said, so many of the
212th..”
He hesitated then, a few troopers shuffling and pretending they
weren’t listening while taking count of the droid squad.
“But…?”
Qui-Gon encouraged him, literally feeling the but in the air.
“But,”
Cody slumped a bit. “The General always wanted to help her, he
always said that she could do better, be better.” He confessed
quietly, rubbing his hands together while staring down at them.
Pausing
at that, Qui-Gon let out a deep breath through his nose as the wind
picked up around them. That actually made sense, Ben had always had a
soft heart, he wanted to help and clearly Obi-Wan had been reborn
with those qualities in him.
It
was one of the things that both frustrated Qui-Gon and yet made him
love him at the same time, that soft merciful heart.
“Let
me guess, she’s hurt him before.” He stated more than asked, his
voice deep and rumbling like rocks tumbling together.
That
got a round of snorts from all the troopers and a dry, humorless
laugh from Commander Cody. “If you get me drunk enough, ask me
Rattatak and the karking Sith mask.” He stated bitterly before
turning and moving to his men, giving quiet orders to burn
the corpse and bring back the memory chips of the droids to scan for
any useful information potentially.
It
left Qui-Gon to think.
He
was old, he had many years to his life, he had been there when the
Jedi came to Coruscant and he had encountered Sith and their
artifacts before.
And
he could make a guess to what a Sith mask could potentially do.
Rage
bubbled beneath his skin at the thought and he had to take a deep
breath through his broken nose while reaching out to Obi-Wan’s
resting signature to calm down.
He
would have that conversation with Obi-Wan.
Though
he would ask Cody for his side of thing, he would imagine the man
hadn’t allowed the mask onto Obi-Wan willingly, which meant a
rescue effort and he would have information that Obi-Wan would try to
hide.
Glancing
down at the body as Screwball and Killer came over to pick up and
cremate her, Qui-Gon couldn’t find it in himself to regret what he
had done. He would never regret keeping his mate safe from danger,
even if his mate became angry at him for a while.
He
could grovel for forgiveness and come to an understanding.
Just
like they had compromised and come to an understanding that Obi-Wan
would be staying in the Jedi order until Ahsoka was knighted.
Qui-Gon
understood not leaving a youngling behind and the young togruta,
hiding her anxiety as she was rather well, needed
the reassurance that her master wouldn’t just up and leave because
he had been turned.
‘That
conversation is going to be fun.’ Qui-Gon mused to himself before
turning away as the troopers lit up the corpse, turning away from it
so not to smell it, the wind coming into his face and blowing the
scent away.
“…So that’s it then?” Obi-Wan stared at his hands and didn’t
dare look at Che.
“Yes. I’m sorry Master Kenobi. If we caught it a few years
before…” She let out a frustrated breath.
“But what about bacta?” He swallowed. “Couldn’t that…”
“Its been repairing the tissue the sickness has ruined. But it
can’t distinguish your healthy cells and the illness sick ones, it
considers both healthy because technically they aren’t destroyed
like the surrounding structure.” She reached out slowly and took
his hands.
Obi-Wan squeezed down on them, letting out a sharp breath through his
nose. “…So there’s nothing.”
“No. Had it been discovered two years, perhaps even a year before,
you could have undergone chemo and surgery but now? No, its to far
gone, to far advanced.” She offered quietly.
“I didn’t even feel sick…” He whispered.
“That would be the bacta and your natural resistance coming to
terms.” Healer Che murmured.
“…Now I’m thinking about all the signs I ignored.” Obi-Wan
gave a breathless little laugh, wry and painful sounding. “Back
pain, exhaustion, heartburn, weight loss and lack of appetite. It was
so…easy to explain away with the war.” He swallowed, feeling
nauseous as he thought of how things always hurt extra when he leaned
over. “Even the dryness of the mouth…” He was always thirsty,
he drank more then he ate the last few years.
He took a shuddering breath, his emotions sprawling.
Che squeezed his hands. “Master Kenobi…Obi-Wan…I’m so sorry.”
“…How…how long do I have left?”
“With the current prognosis…anything between two to five months.”
()()()
‘Two to five months…two to five months… pancreatic cancer…to
far gone for treatment…’ Obi-Wan wrapped his robe more tightly
around himself, feeling colder then the ice on Hoth. He had managed
to swear the healer to silence, citing patient privileges and privacy
and war morale. It still felt like lying but with the news…
He was going to die.
He had two to five months and then he was going to die.
He froze in the middle of the hall before forcing himself to continue
moving towards his quarters, less someone become curious why Master
Kenobi was not moving.
Force blessedly, no one stopped him, perhaps sensing his mood and no
other Council members were meet in the hall.
He reached his rooms and stepped in, closing his eyes in gratefulness
that Anakin was of somewhere. Obi-Wan couldn’t actually bring
himself to remember where as his mind muzzily reminded him to remove
his boots and hang up his robe.
The moment he bent, pain flickered his back and he straightened
slowly as he remembered that this was not a passing pain, this was a
symptom of his sickness. “…I’m going to die.” He said
outloud, the words actually spoken outloud hitting him like a gong.
Obi-Wan pressed his back against the door and slowly slid down until
he was sitting against it, staring at the ceiling of the darkened
rooms.
“…I’m going to die…” He curled up and cried against his own
legs, each sob tearing from him like a lash of a whip. He would not
get to grow old, Anakin would be his only padawan, Ahsoka his only
grandpadawan. He would not get to see Anakin raised to master. He
would not get to see the end of the war unless it came om swifter
wings then anyone could anticipate.
He was going to die and leave everyone behind.
He wasn’t ready to die.
()()()
He was even more reckless on the battlefield.
His safety was no longer a priority. He had no need to preserve
something that was going to snuff out if he could bring the Republic
another victory.
Obi-Wan pretended not to see the worried gazes in his back or the way
Anakin would linger everytime a battle ended, blue eyes searching him
out and looking him over as if he could divine some sort of answer to
Obi-Wan’s behavior.
He had seen Cody run ragged across camp in an attempt to find
something Obi-Wan could eat. He had started accepting the ration bars
if only to appease the man, quietly slipping them back when no one
was looking. No use in wasting rations that wouldn’t be eaten.
Occasionally he had a good day, occasionally he’d manage to eat,
his appetite and pain allowing him to chew and consume something.
He had started to bolster himself thicker clothes so his gauntness
wouldn’t be noticed. Yet…yet he could feel the difference.
Obi-Wan was so tired. His hands would shake at random intervals and
Obi-Wan had more then once noticed a trooper watching them with small
frowns, pretending they hadn’t when they saw Obi-Wan’s eyes on
them but fully reporting it to Cody when they thought the Jedi’s
back was to them enough.
There wasn’t any use though.
Obi-Wan was slowing down.
His exhaustion was becoming more and more apparent. Was this how
death was going to catch him, to ill to fight, to exhausted to
remain, deprive him of all his functions?
Just wasting away, freezing cold in his own bunk?
He’d rather have Qui-Gon’s death. Quick and efficient, a
warrior’s death, cut down.
Or shot down by a blaster.
But he was still the Negotiator, he still had to shoulder on. He had
just a little more fight in him.
And then he had no more.
They were called back to Coruscant and Obi-Wan could feel every step
a painful move as they headed together to the Council chambers, his
shields barely keeping back everything. He felt dizzy and his back
ached despite his straitlaced position.
He could barely hear the rest of the Council through the buzz in his
ears but managed to react when needed. Obi-Wan was so tired and when
it was time to leave the council chamber…he fell.
He stood up, swaying for a few seconds as Anakin called his name
faintly and far away and then the ground came rushing up to meet him.
Obi-Wan never learned if he hit the floor or if someone caught him
because blissed darkness embraced him instead, sending him into
oblivion.
()()()
He woke to the ceiling of the Halls, resting in a bed with the
sterile smell of medical around him. His hands were hooked up to
several machines and resting on his sunken in stomach. As he became
more and more aware, Obi-Wan became aware of the pain originating
inside of him where the tumor rested.
“Mmmn…”
“Obi-Wan?” A rough voice whispered and Obi-Wan tilted his head to
look at a scruffy blond at his bedside. He must have been out for a
few days if Anakin’s face meant anything.
“…Anakin…”
The two stared at each other before the others face twisted and he
slowly reached, taking his hand. “I know…Obi-Wan why didn’t you
tell me?”
“…I don’t know…Anakin…I’m scared.” He whispered,
clinging to the hand holding his, pain leaking out past his shields.
“Anakin I don’t want to die. I’m not ready.”
“Oh Obi-Wan.” Anakin sat up on the bedside and pulled the other
up and against his chest, holding him tightly as the copper haired
Jedi started to quietly cry, his entire, to thin body shaking. As he
cried, the pain in his body was slipping past his shields.
“Shit…Obi-Wan, can you release any of that pain?”
“I’ve tried for weeks…no…” He whispered.
“Okay…I’m calling for the healer, alright? they’ll have
something for you.” Obi-Wan felt the knight shift and use the call
button but didn’t move from him. A dying man deserved a respite.
He closed his eyes though, tucking into Anakin’s chest.
“Does…everyone know now?”
Anakin hesitated even as the healer entered the room. “Yes. Oh,
Healer Che.”
“Yes. I see master Kenobi is awa-”
“He can’t release the pain into the Force. Could you…”
“If I do this, his body might start shutting down once the pain
isn’t there to remind him he’s alive. This might be the last few
hours Master K…Obi-Wan, this might be your last few hours.” She
moved around but Obi-Wan couldn’t lift his head from Anakin’s
chest.
“Okay.” He whispered. “Anakin can…help me. Help me say
goodbye?” He glanced slowly up at the blond. The other took a
shuddering breath before nodding. “Want me to call for Ahsoka?”
Obi-Wan winced a bit as Che gave him a hyposhot before nodding. “And
Mace and Yoda? And Depa…and I’d like to say goodbye to
Cody…and…and perhaps leave a last message to…to whoever cares?”
“Of course Master.” Anakin held his hand tightly, enclosed in his
as the pain slowly faded.
()()()
Obi-Wan was…confused, that was the best word for it.
He was sitting somewhere very dark and he tugged worriedly on his
braid.
“Oh padawan…” Obi-Wan looked up in surprise and then blinked up
at Qui-Gon’s sad face before the man reached down and pulled him
up. “It wasn’t suppose to go this way.”
“I don’t understand Master.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon wrapped his robe around
Obi-Wan’s shoulders and the
younger man leaned into him. “It doesn’t matter anymore, come
along with me now.”
Qui-Gon slowly brought him through the darkness, Obi-Wan safe beneath
the other mans robe. “Where are we going Master?”
“…So that’s it then?” Obi-Wan stared at his hands and didn’t
dare look at Che.
“Yes. I’m sorry Master Kenobi. If we caught it a few years
before…” She let out a frustrated breath.
“But what about bacta?” He swallowed. “Couldn’t that…”
“Its been repairing the tissue the sickness has ruined. But it
can’t distinguish your healthy cells and the illness sick ones, it
considers both healthy because technically they aren’t destroyed
like the surrounding structure.” She reached out slowly and took
his hands.
Obi-Wan squeezed down on them, letting out a sharp breath through his
nose. “…So there’s nothing.”
“No. Had it been discovered two years, perhaps even a year before,
you could have undergone chemo and surgery but now? No, its to far
gone, to far advanced.” She offered quietly.
“I didn’t even feel sick…” He whispered.
“That would be the bacta and your natural resistance coming to
terms.” Healer Che murmured.
“…Now I’m thinking about all the signs I ignored.” Obi-Wan
gave a breathless little laugh, wry and painful sounding. “Back
pain, exhaustion, heartburn, weight loss and lack of appetite. It was
so…easy to explain away with the war.” He swallowed, feeling
nauseous as he thought of how things always hurt extra when he leaned
over. “Even the dryness of the mouth…” He was always thirsty,
he drank more then he ate the last few years.
He took a shuddering breath, his emotions sprawling.
Che squeezed his hands. “Master Kenobi…Obi-Wan…I’m so sorry.”
“…How…how long do I have left?”
“With the current prognosis…anything between two to five months.”
()()()
‘Two to five months…two to five months… pancreatic cancer…to
far gone for treatment…’ Obi-Wan wrapped his robe more tightly
around himself, feeling colder then the ice on Hoth. He had managed
to swear the healer to silence, citing patient privileges and privacy
and war morale. It still felt like lying but with the news…
He was going to die.
He had two to five months and then he was going to die.
He froze in the middle of the hall before forcing himself to continue
moving towards his quarters, less someone become curious why Master
Kenobi was not moving.
Force blessedly, no one stopped him, perhaps sensing his mood and no
other Council members were meet in the hall.
He reached his rooms and stepped in, closing his eyes in gratefulness
that Anakin was of somewhere. Obi-Wan couldn’t actually bring
himself to remember where as his mind muzzily reminded him to remove
his boots and hang up his robe.
The moment he bent, pain flickered his back and he straightened
slowly as he remembered that this was not a passing pain, this was a
symptom of his sickness. “…I’m going to die.” He said
outloud, the words actually spoken outloud hitting him like a gong.
Obi-Wan pressed his back against the door and slowly slid down until
he was sitting against it, staring at the ceiling of the darkened
rooms.
“…I’m going to die…” He curled up and cried against his own
legs, each sob tearing from him like a lash of a whip. He would not
get to grow old, Anakin would be his only padawan, Ahsoka his only
grandpadawan. He would not get to see Anakin raised to master. He
would not get to see the end of the war unless it came om swifter
wings then anyone could anticipate.
He was going to die and leave everyone behind.
He wasn’t ready to die.
()()()
He was even more reckless on the battlefield.
His safety was no longer a priority. He had no need to preserve
something that was going to snuff out if he could bring the Republic
another victory.
Obi-Wan pretended not to see the worried gazes in his back or the way
Anakin would linger everytime a battle ended, blue eyes searching him
out and looking him over as if he could divine some sort of answer to
Obi-Wan’s behavior.
He had seen Cody run ragged across camp in an attempt to find
something Obi-Wan could eat. He had started accepting the ration bars
if only to appease the man, quietly slipping them back when no one
was looking. No use in wasting rations that wouldn’t be eaten.
Occasionally he had a good day, occasionally he’d manage to eat,
his appetite and pain allowing him to chew and consume something.
He had started to bolster himself thicker clothes so his gauntness
wouldn’t be noticed. Yet…yet he could feel the difference.
Obi-Wan was so tired. His hands would shake at random intervals and
Obi-Wan had more then once noticed a trooper watching them with small
frowns, pretending they hadn’t when they saw Obi-Wan’s eyes on
them but fully reporting it to Cody when they thought the Jedi’s
back was to them enough.
There wasn’t any use though.
Obi-Wan was slowing down.
His exhaustion was becoming more and more apparent. Was this how
death was going to catch him, to ill to fight, to exhausted to
remain, deprive him of all his functions?
Just wasting away, freezing cold in his own bunk?
He’d rather have Qui-Gon’s death. Quick and efficient, a
warrior’s death, cut down.
Or shot down by a blaster.
But he was still the Negotiator, he still had to shoulder on. He had
just a little more fight in him.
And then he had no more.
They were called back to Coruscant and Obi-Wan could feel every step
a painful move as they headed together to the Council chambers, his
shields barely keeping back everything. He felt dizzy and his back
ached despite his straitlaced position.
He could barely hear the rest of the Council through the buzz in his
ears but managed to react when needed. Obi-Wan was so tired and when
it was time to leave the council chamber…he fell.
He stood up, swaying for a few seconds as Anakin called his name
faintly and far away and then the ground came rushing up to meet him.
Obi-Wan never learned if he hit the floor or if someone caught him
because blissed darkness embraced him instead, sending him into
oblivion.
()()()
He woke to the ceiling of the Halls, resting in a bed with the
sterile smell of medical around him. His hands were hooked up to
several machines and resting on his sunken in stomach. As he became
more and more aware, Obi-Wan became aware of the pain originating
inside of him where the tumor rested.
“Mmmn…”
“Obi-Wan?” A rough voice whispered and Obi-Wan tilted his head to
look at a scruffy blond at his bedside. He must have been out for a
few days if Anakin’s face meant anything.
“…Anakin…”
The two stared at each other before the others face twisted and he
slowly reached, taking his hand. “I know…Obi-Wan why didn’t you
tell me?”
“…I don’t know…Anakin…I’m scared.” He whispered,
clinging to the hand holding his, pain leaking out past his shields.
“Anakin I don’t want to die. I’m not ready.”
“Oh Obi-Wan.” Anakin sat up on the bedside and pulled the other
up and against his chest, holding him tightly as the copper haired
Jedi started to quietly cry, his entire, to thin body shaking. As he
cried, the pain in his body was slipping past his shields.
“Shit…Obi-Wan, can you release any of that pain?”
“I’ve tried for weeks…no…” He whispered.
“Okay…I’m calling for the healer, alright? they’ll have
something for you.” Obi-Wan felt the knight shift and use the call
button but didn’t move from him. A dying man deserved a respite.
He closed his eyes though, tucking into Anakin’s chest.
“Does…everyone know now?”
Anakin hesitated even as the healer entered the room. “Yes. Oh,
Healer Che.”
“Yes. I see master Kenobi is awa-”
“He can’t release the pain into the Force. Could you…”
“If I do this, his body might start shutting down once the pain
isn’t there to remind him he’s alive. This might be the last few
hours Master K…Obi-Wan, this might be your last few hours.” She
moved around but Obi-Wan couldn’t lift his head from Anakin’s
chest.
“Okay.” He whispered. “Anakin can…help me. Help me say
goodbye?” He glanced slowly up at the blond. The other took a
shuddering breath before nodding. “Want me to call for Ahsoka?”
Obi-Wan winced a bit as Che gave him a hyposhot before nodding. “And
Mace and Yoda? And Depa…and I’d like to say goodbye to
Cody…and…and perhaps leave a last message to…to whoever cares?”
“Of course Master.” Anakin held his hand tightly, enclosed in his
as the pain slowly faded.
()()()
Obi-Wan was…confused, that was the best word for it.
He was sitting somewhere very dark and he tugged worriedly on his
braid.
“Oh padawan…” Obi-Wan looked up in surprise and then blinked up
at Qui-Gon’s sad face before the man reached down and pulled him
up. “It wasn’t suppose to go this way.”
“I don’t understand Master.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon wrapped his robe around
Obi-Wan’s shoulders and the
younger man leaned into him. “It doesn’t matter anymore, come
along with me now.”
Qui-Gon slowly brought him through the darkness, Obi-Wan safe beneath
the other mans robe. “Where are we going Master?”
“…So that’s it then?” Obi-Wan stared at his hands and didn’t
dare look at Che.
“Yes. I’m sorry Master Kenobi. If we caught it a few years
before…” She let out a frustrated breath.
“But what about bacta?” He swallowed. “Couldn’t that…”
“Its been repairing the tissue the sickness has ruined. But it
can’t distinguish your healthy cells and the illness sick ones, it
considers both healthy because technically they aren’t destroyed
like the surrounding structure.” She reached out slowly and took
his hands.
Obi-Wan squeezed down on them, letting out a sharp breath through his
nose. “…So there’s nothing.”
“No. Had it been discovered two years, perhaps even a year before,
you could have undergone chemo and surgery but now? No, its to far
gone, to far advanced.” She offered quietly.
“I didn’t even feel sick…” He whispered.
“That would be the bacta and your natural resistance coming to
terms.” Healer Che murmured.
“…Now I’m thinking about all the signs I ignored.” Obi-Wan
gave a breathless little laugh, wry and painful sounding. “Back
pain, exhaustion, heartburn, weight loss and lack of appetite. It was
so…easy to explain away with the war.” He swallowed, feeling
nauseous as he thought of how things always hurt extra when he leaned
over. “Even the dryness of the mouth…” He was always thirsty,
he drank more then he ate the last few years.
He took a shuddering breath, his emotions sprawling.
Che squeezed his hands. “Master Kenobi…Obi-Wan…I’m so sorry.”
“…How…how long do I have left?”
“With the current prognosis…anything between two to five months.”
()()()
‘Two to five months…two to five months… pancreatic cancer…to
far gone for treatment…’ Obi-Wan wrapped his robe more tightly
around himself, feeling colder then the ice on Hoth. He had managed
to swear the healer to silence, citing patient privileges and privacy
and war morale. It still felt like lying but with the news…
He was going to die.
He had two to five months and then he was going to die.
He froze in the middle of the hall before forcing himself to continue
moving towards his quarters, less someone become curious why Master
Kenobi was not moving.
Force blessedly, no one stopped him, perhaps sensing his mood and no
other Council members were meet in the hall.
He reached his rooms and stepped in, closing his eyes in gratefulness
that Anakin was of somewhere. Obi-Wan couldn’t actually bring
himself to remember where as his mind muzzily reminded him to remove
his boots and hang up his robe.
The moment he bent, pain flickered his back and he straightened
slowly as he remembered that this was not a passing pain, this was a
symptom of his sickness. “…I’m going to die.” He said
outloud, the words actually spoken outloud hitting him like a gong.
Obi-Wan pressed his back against the door and slowly slid down until
he was sitting against it, staring at the ceiling of the darkened
rooms.
“…I’m going to die…” He curled up and cried against his own
legs, each sob tearing from him like a lash of a whip. He would not
get to grow old, Anakin would be his only padawan, Ahsoka his only
grandpadawan. He would not get to see Anakin raised to master. He
would not get to see the end of the war unless it came om swifter
wings then anyone could anticipate.
He was going to die and leave everyone behind.
He wasn’t ready to die.
()()()
He was even more reckless on the battlefield.
His safety was no longer a priority. He had no need to preserve
something that was going to snuff out if he could bring the Republic
another victory.
Obi-Wan pretended not to see the worried gazes in his back or the way
Anakin would linger everytime a battle ended, blue eyes searching him
out and looking him over as if he could divine some sort of answer to
Obi-Wan’s behavior.
He had seen Cody run ragged across camp in an attempt to find
something Obi-Wan could eat. He had started accepting the ration bars
if only to appease the man, quietly slipping them back when no one
was looking. No use in wasting rations that wouldn’t be eaten.
Occasionally he had a good day, occasionally he’d manage to eat,
his appetite and pain allowing him to chew and consume something.
He had started to bolster himself thicker clothes so his gauntness
wouldn’t be noticed. Yet…yet he could feel the difference.
Obi-Wan was so tired. His hands would shake at random intervals and
Obi-Wan had more then once noticed a trooper watching them with small
frowns, pretending they hadn’t when they saw Obi-Wan’s eyes on
them but fully reporting it to Cody when they thought the Jedi’s
back was to them enough.
There wasn’t any use though.
Obi-Wan was slowing down.
His exhaustion was becoming more and more apparent. Was this how
death was going to catch him, to ill to fight, to exhausted to
remain, deprive him of all his functions?
Just wasting away, freezing cold in his own bunk?
He’d rather have Qui-Gon’s death. Quick and efficient, a
warrior’s death, cut down.
Or shot down by a blaster.
But he was still the Negotiator, he still had to shoulder on. He had
just a little more fight in him.
And then he had no more.
They were called back to Coruscant and Obi-Wan could feel every step
a painful move as they headed together to the Council chambers, his
shields barely keeping back everything. He felt dizzy and his back
ached despite his straitlaced position.
He could barely hear the rest of the Council through the buzz in his
ears but managed to react when needed. Obi-Wan was so tired and when
it was time to leave the council chamber…he fell.
He stood up, swaying for a few seconds as Anakin called his name
faintly and far away and then the ground came rushing up to meet him.
Obi-Wan never learned if he hit the floor or if someone caught him
because blissed darkness embraced him instead, sending him into
oblivion.
()()()
He woke to the ceiling of the Halls, resting in a bed with the
sterile smell of medical around him. His hands were hooked up to
several machines and resting on his sunken in stomach. As he became
more and more aware, Obi-Wan became aware of the pain originating
inside of him where the tumor rested.
“Mmmn…”
“Obi-Wan?” A rough voice whispered and Obi-Wan tilted his head to
look at a scruffy blond at his bedside. He must have been out for a
few days if Anakin’s face meant anything.
“…Anakin…”
The two stared at each other before the others face twisted and he
slowly reached, taking his hand. “I know…Obi-Wan why didn’t you
tell me?”
“…I don’t know…Anakin…I’m scared.” He whispered,
clinging to the hand holding his, pain leaking out past his shields.
“Anakin I don’t want to die. I’m not ready.”
“Oh Obi-Wan.” Anakin sat up on the bedside and pulled the other
up and against his chest, holding him tightly as the copper haired
Jedi started to quietly cry, his entire, to thin body shaking. As he
cried, the pain in his body was slipping past his shields.
“Shit…Obi-Wan, can you release any of that pain?”
“I’ve tried for weeks…no…” He whispered.
“Okay…I’m calling for the healer, alright? they’ll have
something for you.” Obi-Wan felt the knight shift and use the call
button but didn’t move from him. A dying man deserved a respite.
He closed his eyes though, tucking into Anakin’s chest.
“Does…everyone know now?”
Anakin hesitated even as the healer entered the room. “Yes. Oh,
Healer Che.”
“Yes. I see master Kenobi is awa-”
“He can’t release the pain into the Force. Could you…”
“If I do this, his body might start shutting down once the pain
isn’t there to remind him he’s alive. This might be the last few
hours Master K…Obi-Wan, this might be your last few hours.” She
moved around but Obi-Wan couldn’t lift his head from Anakin’s
chest.
“Okay.” He whispered. “Anakin can…help me. Help me say
goodbye?” He glanced slowly up at the blond. The other took a
shuddering breath before nodding. “Want me to call for Ahsoka?”
Obi-Wan winced a bit as Che gave him a hyposhot before nodding. “And
Mace and Yoda? And Depa…and I’d like to say goodbye to
Cody…and…and perhaps leave a last message to…to whoever cares?”
“Of course Master.” Anakin held his hand tightly, enclosed in his
as the pain slowly faded.
()()()
Obi-Wan was…confused, that was the best word for it.
He was sitting somewhere very dark and he tugged worriedly on his
braid.
“Oh padawan…” Obi-Wan looked up in surprise and then blinked up
at Qui-Gon’s sad face before the man reached down and pulled him
up. “It wasn’t suppose to go this way.”
“I don’t understand Master.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon wrapped his robe around
Obi-Wan’s shoulders and the
younger man leaned into him. “It doesn’t matter anymore, come
along with me now.”
Qui-Gon slowly brought him through the darkness, Obi-Wan safe beneath
the other mans robe. “Where are we going Master?”
She’s at Dex when she hears the news, trying to figure out where
her life is going to take her next. A wild and red eyed reporter on
the holoscreen, talking about devastating Republican losses
interrupting the usual program and Dex turns the sound up.
“Among the fallen were General Kenobi and General Skywalker has
taken massive trauma. We… we will have more on this later and we
have a direct shot from the Temple as of now.”
The glass slides from someones hand and smashes against the floor, a
bright green liquid staining the already dirty floor at Dex without
notice as the sound dims even more.
Ahsoka stares as a shuttle ramp lowers in the hanger of the temple,
the camera obviously zooming in as good as it can as several clone
troopers with blue and orange slowly descend the ramp.
And then Anakin comes slowly down the ramp, limping.
His mech arm is gone, bloody bandages left where his arm should be
and his tunic is torn to shred. By his flesh hand a stretcher hovers,
covered in a white sheet and below the sheet…
Ahsoka can see the copper hairs of the person hidden below it.
Master Windu meets him at the base and from the distance Ahsoka can’t
tell what his expression is, can only watch as he slowly raises a
hand to Anakin’s shoulder, watches Anakin’s shoulders slump as he
allows another Jedi to take the stretcher, separating the stretcher
for one way and Windu and Anakin for another.
One for the Halls.
The other for the morgue.
She can’t remember getting up.
Can’t remember leaving Dex.
She only remembers running, people calling her name as they notice
her, obviously recognizing her but she can’t quite…remember. She
only remembers taking the Jedi temple steps two at a time, bringing
her into the grand hall.
If she had bothered to look, she would have noticed Jedi avoiding her
eyes, everyone too aware of what linage she had once belonged to.
She’s almost reached the Halls when a voice does call out to her.
“Soka, wait he’s not ready.”
She turns, meets the weary face of Master Plo and he doesn’t even
need to open his mouth for more words because everything is written
in the others face and Force being.
Master Obi-Wan is really and utterly gone. This is no Hardeen trick.
()()()
He hadn’t wanted to take it at first when Yoda and Windu had
offered him it.
It hadn’t felt right even if he wanted it.
Until Windu had opened his big fat mouth. “It was Obi-Wan’s
request to consider you. One of his last should he…not return.”
Obi-Wan’s request.
So here he is, standing in front of the empty chair that once
belonged to Obi-Wan, had seen the other sit in so often, lounging
with an ease that told everyone that he belonged in this chair while
smiling at Anakin.
“…Skywalker?” Anakin looked up to his side where Depa was
smiling sadly at him. “The meeting has to start…” He nodded and
then slowly sat down, somehow feeling like an impostor at a throne.
The words seemed to filter through him like the ocean waves, lapping
at his consciousnesses as he responded as best he could to them
until…
“Lastly there’s been a coded message delivered to us, call
sign…” Windu froze, staring at the it and Anakin felt a small
frown cross his face when the Korun glanced at him.
“Master Windu?” Shaak questioned quietly.
“…Call sign, Guiding Light.” Windu got out quietly after a few
moment.
Anakin froze because that was Obi-Wan’s call sign. Obi-Wan had left
a message for them and it was there, ready to be played.
“Play it, you will.” Yoda said in the quiet only broken by the
skycars outside and Mace did so, the holo display lighting up in an
all to familiar form after a few moments.
Obi-Wan smiled in the holo. “Ah, good, it seems the council
listened to me for once and made you Councilor in my place Anakin as
this wouldn’t have been sent without that, an alternative message would have played.” He chuckles and
Anakin help but get up, to move so he can look right up at Obi-Wan
just one last time. “And you took the position! Good Anakin, good.
The galaxy and the Order needs you and I’m glad you’re giving it
a chance.” The older man beamed before seemingly sighing. “But if
you’re there and the chair is yours that means I am dead… council
member Skywalker.” He mused.
Anakin stared at him. He sounded so nonchalant about his death, as if
it wasn’t important but Force there had been an empty black hole in
Anakin since the damn Sith Lord master of Dooku had showed his saber
through Obi-Wan, cackling as he did.
He’d seemed so strangely familiar…
“Emotion yet peace padawan.” Anakin gritted his teeth at that,
staring at Obi-Wan who suddenly looked a bit embarrassed. “I…
hope the galaxy let me be selfish one last time… I hope I died by
your side fighting Anakin… I must admit that’s the only request I
have of the galaxy anymore though I wouldn’t have minded growing
old too.” He laughed faintly and Anakin felt tears trickle down his
cheeks.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and made a low noise, reaching out until his
fingertips were brushing Anakin’s cheek, the static of the hologram
tickling his skin. “Oh padawan…save your tears, I’m not worth
them. Emotion, yet peace dear one. The galaxy needs you more then it
needs me… and have that arm of yours looked at please.” The eyes
opened again, seemingly staring straight at Anakin, reminding the
blond about the others ability to see the future once again. “There’s
a box in my quarters marked with your name… I must admit its a last
selfish request but… they have my goodbyes to the people of a more
personal nature though this message here is a code for information I
have gathered on the Sith Lord since the beginning of the war, I just
never had time to really work on it all. But for now Anakin… for
now my fellow council masters… goodbye, may the Force be with you
all.” The holo shut down, each chair giving a little ping with the
information Obi-Wan had promised.
Salty tears hit the council chamber’s marble floor in the silence.
Emotion… yet peace.
Anakin took a deep breath. ‘…Okay Obi-Wan… I’ll try… I’ll
try for you.’
SWpromptsandask 