A/N: just a rambling about Anakin and Obi-Wan. Not slash, inspired when I watched the opening space battle scene in RotS
"Obi-Wan, we're in so much trouble."
"I know, [Anakin]."
"But a solution is bound to present itself? Maybe. Except one of these days that's just not going to happen. You do know that, right?"
"Yes. But it won't be today."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Now let's go."
-Siege, by Karen Miller
How many times could a man flirt with death before eventually, finally, falling headfirst into his own game and finding himself nothing more than a dead, worthless corpse? It was a question often asked in the minds of hundreds since the Clone War had started, haunting the clones and the civilians and the Jedi and maybe the Sith. No, probably not the Sith. Anakin couldn't imagine (and he had a very functional imagination) Count Dooku sitting up at night, unable to sleep because his Master had nearly been shot down on his watch only hours earlier. No, the Sith didn't have compassion, didn't have things like healthy attachments, so such a possibility was out of the question.
Technically, Jedi were not supposed to have attachments of any kind either, but Anakin was no ordinary Jedi. His Master had accepted it, his wife, his apprentice… now if only the Council could see it, then the galaxy might have a chance at saving itself before it self-destructed. Maybe, if attachments were allowed, much of the tension threaded throughout the Temple would be nigh, and the chance of sleep and relaxation could become a likelihood. Though, that thought seemed completely impossible, and it was ridiculous that he was even thinking about rules and regulations after Obi-Wan had nearly been blown into oblivion less than five hours ago…
Stop it. He was rambling. That was what happened when he's left with insomnia, three o'clock in the morning, cramped into his small quarters onboard Resolute with absolutely nothing to do except replay the day's battle over and over and over again.
"My cockpit's fogged up...!"
"Hold on, Master, I'm coming towards you…"
"I've lost all controls… get out of here, Anakin, before you get the both of us killed!"
"I can get close enough for Artoo to eject and get into your droid socket, he can take over the controls…"
"There are no controls, Anakin! Now, go and finish the mission!"
Had Obi-Wan truly believed he would just leave him there, spiraling all over space in the middle of a battle, just so he could go and take prisoner a suspected smuggler allied with the Separatist? After the initial panic had worn off, the Master had sounded calm. Eerily serene, as if he knew his fate was death that day, and he had accepted it. After realizing that controlling his fighter was an impossible feat, Obi-Wan had coolly ordered Anakin to move on ahead with his men and capture the suspect; no matter what happened to him. No matter if he was shot down, or captured, or worse. He'd done it with such dignity and honor that Anakin would've been both amazed and proud of his mentor for showing such courage…
…he would've, if he weren't so kriffing pissed.
Remembering his rage only chased sleep away even farther, to the point where Anakin finally stood up and, accepting defeat in this particular battle, exited his quarters and began wandering the various halls of Resolute. It was his ship since the beginning of the War, even before he became a General and Knight, so his pace was brisk as he navigated the corridors before ending up in the hanger. It was a common practice now – go to bed, lay there awake for several hours, and then get up to fiddle with things his fighter really didn't need fixed until he either fell asleep against his ship or was forced to slip out of the hanger quietly because the morning preparations had to be made by the clones.
He slipped easily into the routine, using the Force to flip a switch and bathe the hanger in bright, artificial white light that stung his eyes. Wincing, he settled himself on the ground beneath his gold fighter and began messing with wires already repaired, his fingers just needing something to mess with before they started pulling at his hair. His fingers grazed the messily painted-over scorch mark along the right wing – droids could never do the job a living mechanic could – and it was like he could hear the fire fight all over again, right there in the hanger with him.
"Anakin, there's nothing you can do…"
"Just give me a minute, Master, I've got Rex coming towards you with a tractor beam. He'll retrieve you and bring you back to Resolute. I'll cover you till then…"
"I'm swerving! Anakin get out of the way!"
"Ma…"
"ANAKIN!"
He remembered Obi-Wan unwittingly colliding with his wingtip, wiping out his own engines and cutting off pretty much all of his own controls and life support. There'd been sparks, then flames, Obi-Wan shouting at him through the Force barely able to be heard through all the chaos. Rex and his rescue shuttle had appeared directly overhead, and he'd moved without action…
Flames and the screams of dying clones all throughout the Force, his own Master's distress and the distress of the abused civilians on the planet below, Artoo's mechanical screeches and Rex giving out orders left and right… so much noise…
"Anakin?"
The familiar voice, laced with weariness yet much more alert than it had been directly after the battle, knocked him out of the flashback and back to the present. He lifted his head to find Obi-Wan's warm gray eyes gazing at him from where the older Jedi stood directly before him, arms crossed, hair tousled, obviously exhausted yet still standing there waiting for a response. Or, almost waiting for a response. The bearded man spoke up before Anakin had a chance to say anything. "Sleep is as much a weapon in war as a lightsaber, young one," he stated in that perfect lecture voice that used to irritate him to no end.
"Not tired," he answered simply, wincing when Obi-Wan raised a disbelieving eyebrow in his direction. Not shocked that he'd lied; simply shocked that his lie was so weak, like he wasn't even trying to get out of trouble. "And I thought you stopped calling me 'young one' since the start of the war."
Obi-Wan nodded slowly, setting himself down so that he was sitting on the wing of the golden Starfighter. He left the nickname calling where it lay, and instead added, "I debriefed the Council earlier, and we have been given a short leave. Resolute is already returning to Coruscant as we speak."
He knew. He'd felt the shift in the engines, the tiny disturbance in the Force that told him the ship and the beings in it had changed direction.
"We've been given several more commendations for the victory earlier," the Master went on. "From the Senate, of course; the Council has merely requested that we attempt less bold maneuvers when in the field. They are always suggesting that, however, so I doubt we'll have any problems from that perspective…"
"Stop." He cut into his mentor's words without raising his eyes to look at them, instead choosing to glare at the ground while his flesh hand subconsciously curled into a fist. He heard Obi-Wan pause, and could feel his troubled gaze on him. Just stop.
"Anakin?"
The man sounded so frustratingly calm and concerned that it snapped the last intact nerve he had left. Anakin looked up to scowl at him, getting to his feet, Force snapping around him. "Stop pretending everything is alright! That nothing that happened earlier existed! Just stop!"
Obi-Wan remained sitting, watching without arguing, the perfect model of a true Jedi Master. Damn him. Anakin's gaze turned from angry to accusatory.
"You nearly died earlier, and you expected me to just leave you there," he spat venomously, the words disgusting him and filling him with dread. He watched Obi-Wan sigh weakly, and his scowl deepened. "You actually expected me to leave you there."
Obi-Wan listened to the words quietly, slightly stunned. It wasn't as if this had been there first battle, not like they haven't gone around this same circle over and over and over again. It was part of war's price, and Anakin and he had done these same maneuvers several times before. He listened intently, searching for a deeper reason behind the outburst. After a few minutes passed with Anakin simply repeating the same thing, he stopped listening and just thought.
"Go, Anakin! You're not helping here."
Of course he'd known Anakin wouldn't leave; in fact, he'd known for sure that his words would only keep Anakin by his side all the more. And that was what, in his mind, had been one of the worst moments of the battle. He'd been in trouble, and he'd manipulated his words so that Anakin would not go off – not like he would anyways, but he'd just had to be sure. It had been a terribly selfish action; but not the worst part of the day.
The worst part had been when he'd crashed into Anakin, forcing the younger man to leap out of his fighter, in the middle of space, on the hope that he'd get caught in Rex's tractor beam and brought in before he was either crushed by pressure or suffocated.
It had worked, somehow, thank the Force; but it'd still been the most reckless, desperate, and terrifying maneuver Obi-Wan had witnessed his partner make yet.
Just how many times could they keep up this charade of death-defying heroes before the time came where their miracles would fail them?
Anakin's frustration, anger, and worry were coming off the young man in waves now, reminding Obi-Wan of the present situation. The man stood up and easily caught his former Padawan by the shoulder, and he held him there until Anakin stopped rambling and met his gaze. Obi-Wan was tempted to open his mouth and start talking; but that had set Anakin off in the first place earlier.
So, instead, he simply sat back down on the fighter and waited for Anakin to sit down next to him. He didn't have to wait long; Anakin was exhausted and sleep deprived, no matter how hard the Knight tried to hide it. Soon, both Jedi were just sitting there, not talking. Anakin knew what the older man was trying to do: he was trying to calm him down, get him to ignore the panic from the battle and get him to enjoy the current peace, get him to be grateful that they were both still alive now. It was times like these that Anakin loathed the fact that his adrenaline took so long to wear off; he was still fidgeting as he sat with his elbows resting on his knees, fingers tapping together as he stared out into the emptiness of the hanger. Obi-Wan's warm Force presence pulsed smoothly beside him, and that helped somewhat.
Had Obi-Wan felt the terror Anakin had, when the younger man had jumped out of his fighter in the middle of a space battle with only a slight chance that he'd fall into the tractor beam and be pulled to safety? Probably. Anakin had been too focused on not dying at the moment to pay much attention to Obi-Wan's emotional state. After all, he'd seen his mentor get pulled into the beam, he'd seen him made safe. That was all he'd needed to know, really, at the time. And when he'd opened his eyes once more to find himself lying on the floor of the west hanger, Rex racing towards him and Obi-Wan leaping out of his fighter to sprint over, it had been another miraculous escape made by the Team.
Only, that wasn't going to happen. It was inevitable that one day, a single slip-up in battle, a stray blaster bolt, a miscalculated Force jump or lightsaber swing would end it for one of them. Probably himself, because Obi-Wan was too guarded and not as reckless. Probably. Hopefully. Or it would be over for both of them. Anakin couldn't decide which option was worse; knowing Obi-Wan had perished with him, or being forced to fight the rest of the war without his partner by his side.
The thought sent chills throughout his body, and he shivered.
Obi-Wan, always so intuitive, noticed but didn't say anything.
He never could take the silence for long; Anakin had always needed something to fill his ears. And now, even if it was just his own voice, he couldn't take the quiet any longer. "We can't keep doing this you know," he muttered tiredly. Can't keep cheating death. "This lucky streak won't last forever." One of us, or both of us, are going to get ourselves killed. It's inevitable.
Obi-Wan nodded slowly, almost resignedly. "I know, Anakin."
He sounded so accepting. It almost frightened him, the Hero with No Fear. He'd wanted Obi-Wan to argue his statement, but now that he hadn't, he was at a loss of what to say.
He didn't have to say anything. Calmly, Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm, a familiar gesture, and kept it there. A physical statement of reassurance and comfort that both had become acquainted with over their decade-long partnership. Friendship. And it bound them together, to the point where Anakin could almost feel the little demons nagging at his mind get chased away.
Death was inevitable. But so was the fact that they'd be together when it happened.
He smiled a bit. Just barely.