Anakin's room, 33 Apocalypse Avenue [evening]
Anakin walked into his room from a long day moping brooding hiding doing terribly important yet strangely nebulous things, slowly shut the door and slid down it until he rested on the ground with his head down on his knees.
He was 43 years old today.
He felt much, much older.
Without warning or preamble, the softly opaque figure of an old Jedi took form in the far corner.
A being at one with the Force was probably supposed to be beyond feeling the passage of time, but when Obi-Wan looked on the face of his former student - his old friend - all he knew was that it had been far too long.
All he said was, "You look terrible."
"Thanks," Anakin muttered before the voice fully registered.
Then his head shot up and his eyes darted around the room. "Obi-Wan?" he whispered. If possible, now he looked even worse.
Guilt and a lack of sleep will do that to a man.
Obi-Wan moved closer, but stopped still a few steps away. The last time he'd seen Anakin looking this ragged -- well, it hadn't ended well. He had no idea how this conversation was going to go.
"Hello, Anakin. It's been a long time."
Anakin chewed on his lower lip and stared back down at his knees. Luke had been quick to forgive because…well, it was Luke. Rory couldn’t grasp the enormity of the wrong he’d done.
But Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan knew it all.
The shame Anakin was feeling was as solid, heavy and unmovable as a mountain in the Force.
“A very long time,” he finally whispered.
Of course Anakin was drowning himself. He never did anything by halves.
"I suppose," Obi-Wan said, taking a seat on the end of Anakin's bed, "that 'happy birthday' isn't what you're interested in hearing right now."
Master of the understatement, he is.
Anakin winced. “I can’t imagine you’re terribly interested in wishing me a happy anything.”
"I was rather angry at you. Particularly when you tried to kill your son. Twice." He paused. "And then there was the part where you blew up an entire planet. Impressive, in an appalling sort of way."
It was impressive how such a tall man had managed to curl himself into such a tiny ball. He clamped his jaw shut and pressed his hands together to stop their shaking.
But he wasn’t offering a single word in his own defense.
He knew there weren’t any.
In a strange way, he’d been expecting this. No other mistake in his life had seemed real until Obi-Wan had lectured him on it. Why would something like his old friend being dead stop that from happening?
The waves of self-loathing coming off of Anakin were painful to feel. He had been too proud, it was true, but to see him so reduced within himself was as bad, in its own way.
Obi-Wan had thought of a great many sharp things to say in his twenty years in the wastes of Tatooine, thought of them and let them go, spoken only to the empty sand. He let the last of them go now. Always in motion, the Force is. In stillness, moving forward, never looking back.
He cleared his throat unnecessarily. "The question, Anakin, is what have you done lately?"
Anakin sighed. "A lot of this," he admitted, still focusing on his knees.
"And how's that working for you?"
Anakin finally made eye contact with Obi-Wan. "It's not. At all. But I don't know what to do."
There isn't a great deal of precedent for you, it's true." Something of his old twinkle showed in Obi-Wan's eyes. "But then, there never was," he added dryly.
Anakin bit his lip. "So you've come back to mock me, then?" There wasn't any of the old familiar sullenness in his tone, just tired resignation.
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh. "At the moment, I'm trying to have a conversation with you. As disappointing as it may be, being dead doesn't endow me with all the answers."
Anakin gave him a very small smile. "You've always known more than I do," he said softly. "Any suggestions?"
"When in doubt, start from the beginning." Obi-Wan gestured at Anakin's undisturbed-looking bed. "I gather you're not sleeping. Have you been able to meditate?"
Anakin was silent for a long moment. "Not for a long time," he said. "I used to...picture the Temple. It's not as relaxing as it once was. Now I picture the preserve here but it only lasts for a little while."
Obi-Wan nodded. "No, there's no going back. Whatever in the past set you at peace, made you calm -- you're not that person anymore." He thought a moment. "I think we should try something a little different."
Anakin smiled again. "The last time you said that, we ended up dancing on that bar on Thyferra."
Obi-Wan grinned ruefully. "It kept the pirates from killing us without blowing our cover, didn't it? But I had something rather less ostentatious in mind this time."
"I meant it when I said you should go back to the beginning." He unconsciously re-settled himself on the bed, falling into a relaxed but straight-backed posture, hands resting palm-down on his upper thighs. "What's the first meditation technique Padawans are taught?"
Obi-Wan's expression was serious again, but not without compassion. "You're breathing without machinery now, Anakin. Embrace it."
Anakin dropped back into the familiar position and closed his eyes. "It's still strange," he said softly.
Obi-wan kept his voice quiet and steady. "One breath may be a little deeper, the next shallower, but you breathe regularly - not because you have to but because your body knows what's best for it. Don't reach for what you think comes next; for what you think should be your center. Just breathe. That is the Force."
Anakin smiled softly, remembering his first lesson like this-Obi-Wan's hair still growing out of that awful Padawan haircut, sitting cross-legged on the floor and trying to convince his ten-year-old self to sit still for five minutes.
His breathing slowed down and evened out and the overwhelming guilt he was being buried under lessened just a little bit. Whether it was the familiarity of the old lesson or the presence of an old friend that was helping, not even Anakin could say.
Obi-Wan felt the tight knot that was Anakin's presence in the Force begin to loosen just a little, so he kept on, anchoring Anakin with a low and steady voice as he'd used to do years and worlds ago.
The handy thing about not having a real throat any more was he could keep this up as long as Anakin needed him to.
Anakin finally, finally let go, relaxing into the all-encompassing Force. He was remembering how to breathe again.
His eyes still closed, he reached out towards Obi-Wan's presence. "I'm sorry," he said, voice breaking. "I am such a disappointment."
Obi-Wan bowed his head. He had let out his anger and grief at Anakin on Mustafar, and then had walked away; between a teacher who failed his student and a student who betrayed his teacher, what was there left to say?
"The Dark Side of the Force is seductive, powerful. You aren't the first Jedi to fall, but you are one of the only ones who has received the gift of a second chance. What does that tell you?"
"That I still don't play by the same rules," Anakin admitted. "I'm not going to squander this chance, though."
Obi-Wan smiled. "Then you won't be a disappointment."
Anakin was quiet for a long moment. "I miss you."
"It's good to have you back," Obi-Wan said softly. "Even twenty years late."
Anakin sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "How do I even begin to fix this?"
"Can you rebuild Alderaan? Can you give life back to the Jedi who died?" Obi-Wan shook his head, his voice a little rougher. "There is no going back to undo what has been done. You can only move forward."
He leaned forward intently toward Anakin. "Your son is the last of the living Jedi and he has never known his father. What do your feelings tell you about that?"
Anakin was making eye contact a little faster now. "That I need to teach him," he said quietly. "But I haven't been able to pick up a lightsaber in months," he admitted.
A lightsaber was more than a weapon, it was the symbol of being Jedi, and Anakin still wasn't sure he could claim that title.
"You must do what you feel is right, of course - when you're ready for that again, you'll know." Obi-Wan paused and looked expectantly at Anakin. "Is your fighting technique all you think you have to offer?"
"I'm a walking, talking example of what not to do," Anakin said, staring back at his hands. "At this point, I wouldn't recognize a right decision if it came dancing up to me wearing Master Windu's pimp hat." He looked over at Obi-Wan, suddenly wondering why he hadn't asked this years ago. "Was it hard to teach me?"
[OOC: preplayed with the lovely and brilliant master2_whiners, conversation to continue in the comments once SPN stops being on the television...broadcast-y squirrels are free to say that Anakin was having an animated conversation with himself :)]
He was 43 years old today.
He felt much, much older.
Without warning or preamble, the softly opaque figure of an old Jedi took form in the far corner.
A being at one with the Force was probably supposed to be beyond feeling the passage of time, but when Obi-Wan looked on the face of his former student - his old friend - all he knew was that it had been far too long.
All he said was, "You look terrible."
"Thanks," Anakin muttered before the voice fully registered.
Then his head shot up and his eyes darted around the room. "Obi-Wan?" he whispered. If possible, now he looked even worse.
Guilt and a lack of sleep will do that to a man.
Obi-Wan moved closer, but stopped still a few steps away. The last time he'd seen Anakin looking this ragged -- well, it hadn't ended well. He had no idea how this conversation was going to go.
"Hello, Anakin. It's been a long time."
Anakin chewed on his lower lip and stared back down at his knees. Luke had been quick to forgive because…well, it was Luke. Rory couldn’t grasp the enormity of the wrong he’d done.
But Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan knew it all.
The shame Anakin was feeling was as solid, heavy and unmovable as a mountain in the Force.
“A very long time,” he finally whispered.
Of course Anakin was drowning himself. He never did anything by halves.
"I suppose," Obi-Wan said, taking a seat on the end of Anakin's bed, "that 'happy birthday' isn't what you're interested in hearing right now."
Master of the understatement, he is.
Anakin winced. “I can’t imagine you’re terribly interested in wishing me a happy anything.”
"I was rather angry at you. Particularly when you tried to kill your son. Twice." He paused. "And then there was the part where you blew up an entire planet. Impressive, in an appalling sort of way."
It was impressive how such a tall man had managed to curl himself into such a tiny ball. He clamped his jaw shut and pressed his hands together to stop their shaking.
But he wasn’t offering a single word in his own defense.
He knew there weren’t any.
In a strange way, he’d been expecting this. No other mistake in his life had seemed real until Obi-Wan had lectured him on it. Why would something like his old friend being dead stop that from happening?
The waves of self-loathing coming off of Anakin were painful to feel. He had been too proud, it was true, but to see him so reduced within himself was as bad, in its own way.
Obi-Wan had thought of a great many sharp things to say in his twenty years in the wastes of Tatooine, thought of them and let them go, spoken only to the empty sand. He let the last of them go now. Always in motion, the Force is. In stillness, moving forward, never looking back.
He cleared his throat unnecessarily. "The question, Anakin, is what have you done lately?"
Anakin sighed. "A lot of this," he admitted, still focusing on his knees.
"And how's that working for you?"
Anakin finally made eye contact with Obi-Wan. "It's not. At all. But I don't know what to do."
There isn't a great deal of precedent for you, it's true." Something of his old twinkle showed in Obi-Wan's eyes. "But then, there never was," he added dryly.
Anakin bit his lip. "So you've come back to mock me, then?" There wasn't any of the old familiar sullenness in his tone, just tired resignation.
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh. "At the moment, I'm trying to have a conversation with you. As disappointing as it may be, being dead doesn't endow me with all the answers."
Anakin gave him a very small smile. "You've always known more than I do," he said softly. "Any suggestions?"
"When in doubt, start from the beginning." Obi-Wan gestured at Anakin's undisturbed-looking bed. "I gather you're not sleeping. Have you been able to meditate?"
Anakin was silent for a long moment. "Not for a long time," he said. "I used to...picture the Temple. It's not as relaxing as it once was. Now I picture the preserve here but it only lasts for a little while."
Obi-Wan nodded. "No, there's no going back. Whatever in the past set you at peace, made you calm -- you're not that person anymore." He thought a moment. "I think we should try something a little different."
Anakin smiled again. "The last time you said that, we ended up dancing on that bar on Thyferra."
Obi-Wan grinned ruefully. "It kept the pirates from killing us without blowing our cover, didn't it? But I had something rather less ostentatious in mind this time."
"I meant it when I said you should go back to the beginning." He unconsciously re-settled himself on the bed, falling into a relaxed but straight-backed posture, hands resting palm-down on his upper thighs. "What's the first meditation technique Padawans are taught?"
Obi-Wan's expression was serious again, but not without compassion. "You're breathing without machinery now, Anakin. Embrace it."
Anakin dropped back into the familiar position and closed his eyes. "It's still strange," he said softly.
Obi-wan kept his voice quiet and steady. "One breath may be a little deeper, the next shallower, but you breathe regularly - not because you have to but because your body knows what's best for it. Don't reach for what you think comes next; for what you think should be your center. Just breathe. That is the Force."
Anakin smiled softly, remembering his first lesson like this-Obi-Wan's hair still growing out of that awful Padawan haircut, sitting cross-legged on the floor and trying to convince his ten-year-old self to sit still for five minutes.
His breathing slowed down and evened out and the overwhelming guilt he was being buried under lessened just a little bit. Whether it was the familiarity of the old lesson or the presence of an old friend that was helping, not even Anakin could say.
Obi-Wan felt the tight knot that was Anakin's presence in the Force begin to loosen just a little, so he kept on, anchoring Anakin with a low and steady voice as he'd used to do years and worlds ago.
The handy thing about not having a real throat any more was he could keep this up as long as Anakin needed him to.
Anakin finally, finally let go, relaxing into the all-encompassing Force. He was remembering how to breathe again.
His eyes still closed, he reached out towards Obi-Wan's presence. "I'm sorry," he said, voice breaking. "I am such a disappointment."
Obi-Wan bowed his head. He had let out his anger and grief at Anakin on Mustafar, and then had walked away; between a teacher who failed his student and a student who betrayed his teacher, what was there left to say?
"The Dark Side of the Force is seductive, powerful. You aren't the first Jedi to fall, but you are one of the only ones who has received the gift of a second chance. What does that tell you?"
"That I still don't play by the same rules," Anakin admitted. "I'm not going to squander this chance, though."
Obi-Wan smiled. "Then you won't be a disappointment."
Anakin was quiet for a long moment. "I miss you."
"It's good to have you back," Obi-Wan said softly. "Even twenty years late."
Anakin sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "How do I even begin to fix this?"
"Can you rebuild Alderaan? Can you give life back to the Jedi who died?" Obi-Wan shook his head, his voice a little rougher. "There is no going back to undo what has been done. You can only move forward."
He leaned forward intently toward Anakin. "Your son is the last of the living Jedi and he has never known his father. What do your feelings tell you about that?"
Anakin was making eye contact a little faster now. "That I need to teach him," he said quietly. "But I haven't been able to pick up a lightsaber in months," he admitted.
A lightsaber was more than a weapon, it was the symbol of being Jedi, and Anakin still wasn't sure he could claim that title.
"You must do what you feel is right, of course - when you're ready for that again, you'll know." Obi-Wan paused and looked expectantly at Anakin. "Is your fighting technique all you think you have to offer?"
"I'm a walking, talking example of what not to do," Anakin said, staring back at his hands. "At this point, I wouldn't recognize a right decision if it came dancing up to me wearing Master Windu's pimp hat." He looked over at Obi-Wan, suddenly wondering why he hadn't asked this years ago. "Was it hard to teach me?"
[OOC: preplayed with the lovely and brilliant master2_whiners, conversation to continue in the comments once SPN stops being on the television...broadcast-y squirrels are free to say that Anakin was having an animated conversation with himself :)]