The crystal was a being of agony and suffering, screaming in torment even as Anakin and the council tried to purify it, pressing forward in the dark miasma that surrounded the screaming being as their souls glowed ever brighter as they worked, Anakin able to spot the council members joining around the council with their own power, their souls visibly bright and beautiful, flinching as the sound struck them as much as it struck Anakin.

Worst of all was that its scream sounded like Obi-Wan, like the screams Anakin had only heard in the worst kind of torture, the sounds Obi-Wan would have been so far gone that he couldn’t keep them in anymore.

Anakin had only ever heard these screams once and he never wanted to repeat it and yet here he was, listening to the crystal screaming with Obi-Wan’s voice.

It made sense, it was created by Obi-Wan’s very blood after all, the blood of what might be the last star child in the galaxy but it was horrible to listen to his own master’s voice, screaming with pain and knowing that at some point, Obi-Wan might have screamed just like that in pain.

This crystal…

Anakin wasn’t sure what Palpatine was planning with it, it didn’t make sense honestly, why would he want his source of kyber to die?

Was the crystal a mistake perhaps?

Did he think that he could keep Obi-Wan alive somehow or…

‘An experiment. This crystal is an experiment, since Obi-Wan’s tears can’t be bleed like other crystals, he had to try another way but instead he created this.’ The realization hit Anakin heavily and if he had physically been in his own body and not currently trying to overflow the screaming crystal with light, he might have vomited.

As it was, he still retched in the tangible world only for one of the healers to support him, keep him from wrenching himself out of the spiritual realm of the Force.

Keep him going as he poured as much of his own power into the crystal with the council guiding way with their light in the spirit world.

Anakin knew he had flaws, he wasn’t fully light, nor was he fully dark, he was somewhere in between, struggling for balance and maybe…

Maybe that was why when the council members faltered and fell away, Anakin still persevered forward with Mace Windu, Depa Billaba and Plo Koon at his back.

As the creator of the vapaad, Mace was experienced with the dark, his constitution was high.

As for Depa?

Well, it might not be her chosen form but she was still experienced with the vapaad as the former padawan of Mace after all.

She had spent her adolescent working with her master and his form, feeling the darkness against her very being as Mace used the enemy’s own darkness against them, skirting the edges of it himself with his saber technique.

And Plo?

Well, you didn’t get to his age without being well experienced and unlike Yoda, Plo still had enough youth to and constitution to keep on going where Yoda’s age made him bow away in exhaustion.

The screams had died down to whimpers.

Tiny… soft… yet heart wrenching, painful little sounds that had Anakin wishing he could pull away.

‘Almost… like a child…’ Shifting slightly, Anakin brow furrowed as he hesitantly pushed forward and reached out to the ever smaller cloud of darkness, their effort clearly having an impact.

The moment his hand touched the cloud, it evaporated, leaving behind not something wholly light but not wholly dark either as it sobbed softly with a child’s voice.

‘Obi-Wan’s voice. Its… its really just a child isn’t it?’ Anakin wrapped his hand around the little crystal, holding it wrapped in his own light protectively as it seemed to seek him out in turn, the sobs easing down to little hiccups as the crystal seemed to nuzzle at Anakin’s light, seemingly seeking out comfort. ‘Just made, just a child… a part of a star child made physical… did… did Palpatine draw star material out of Obi-Wan’s blood?’ Anakin couldn’t help but feel dizzy even in the spiritual plain, blinking open his eyes to stare down at his hand.

Did Palpatine even know what in Sithhells he was doing at all?

Anakin didn’t think so as he stared into his own hand.

Resting on his palm, a small, tear shaped white crystal rested, glowing faintly.

Just like Obi-Wan’s eyes and freckles would do when he wasn’t trying to hide himself.

The thought had Anakin close his hand protectively around the crystal before his head snapped around, breath held as he meet Obi-Wan’s open, glazed, almost feverish but glowing eyes, the sheen faint but there along with his star patterned freckles.

“…Hello there…” Obi-Wan rasped out, face pale as death and yet visibly regaining strength, smiling dazedly at his former padawan and fellow council members.

Beautifully, wonderfully alive as his tired eyes flickered from person to person before focusing back on Anakin.

Anakin could have sung in joy, instead his breath hitched painfully in his lungs before he fell forward on the bedside he was sitting on, wrapping Obi-Wan’s tired, weak body in a hug.

So terribly weak, hurt but alive, his hands slowly coming up around Anakin in turn.

He smelled of rancid sweat and blood, the spongebath having done little to really clean him when he was brought in and yet Anakin couldn’t find an iota of care as he rocked the other slowly and pressed his nose to the greasy hair.

“You’re alive.” He sobbed quietly, laughing shakily when Obi-Wan tried a weak, comforting shushing.

He felt more than he saw Windu step closer and rest his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “It is good to see you Obi-Wan…” The man murmured quietly, Obi-Wan letting out a soft hum in response.

“Mmmn… tired.” The redhead whispered, nuzzling his head into Anakin’s shoulder.

“Then sleep Obi-Wan,” Anakin stroked the others hair, unable to let go of the other. “We’ll guard your sleep.” He promised, feeling the other settle into Anakin’s body.