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Aubrey's crap: This story was not cut in half. It is, however, a two parter. Please enjoy the last segment.
"Yes, hello, Master Gallia. How thoughtful of you to come. Anakin will be pleased to see you, have a seat. I will get the tea, so you can speak with him."
This last part made Ani's amusement disappear. He shot a dirty look after Obi-Wan as he fled into the kitchen. The dark Jedi Mistress sat on the couch, watching him expectantly. Anakin eyed her very reluctantly, before greeting her with obligatory politeness and going to join her on the couch.
"How are you feeling, Padawan?" she inquired, her hands folded politely in her lap. But he could tell they were just itching to inspect his bandages.
"I'm fine." Anakin lied cheerfully, actually forcing up a smile for her benefit. He'd be more fine if he hadn't have come…
"And how long did Mistress Erin say your recovery would take?" Adi asked, her voice still deceptively polite. Anakin was suddenly quite certain she would be dropping some kind of bomb on him very soon.
"Days for the blood to replenish, a few weeks before all the bandages can come off," he told her cautiously, tugging self-consciously at one of his shirtsleeves, under his tunic.
"Wonderful!" She smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was sharp and vaguely foreboding. "You can begin seeing the Soul Healers immediately, then." Anakin actually choked on his own spit with her words.
"Excuse me?" He coughed, raising an eyebrow. So, taking the rap for Obi-Wan had now landed him in therapy? He could pick several very appropriate Huttese words and phrases to describe his lack of enthusiasm about that.
"You have obviously been disturbed, Padawan." She replied. Adi looked up in a flash of blue when Obi-Wan returned. A tacit look between Master and Padawan let Anakin know that Obi-Wan had heard everything. "Obi-Wan, I am sure you are distressed that your Padawan did not feel able to speak with you about his problems."
Obi-Wan gave a noncommittal reply as his brain worked furiously. He had to find a way to fix this…there had to be a way to fix it.
"I…really don't think the situation exactly…warrants Soul healing, Master Gallia," Anakin stammered nervously, now playing with one of the bandages on his hands. He could feel his heart pounding, and he was sure Adi and Obi-Wan could both hear it. "I mean, yeah, there are a…few of them, but none of them were lethal – you can ask Mistress Erin about that. Don't you think therapy might be overkill?"
Adi reached over and touched him. She wrapped long, warm fingers around his bandaged wrists. It did nothing to comfort Anakin's building panic.
"You have hurt – mutilated yourself, Anakin." She stated calmly. "Therapy is not overkill, and I am sure your Master will agree." She peered keenly at Obi-Wan, whose brows were furrowed. He made quite a show of looking pained before he nodded.
"Master Obi-Wan!" Anakin squawked in protest. "It's unnecessary." This was, however, clearly a losing battle that he was fighting.
"Padawan," Obi-Wan answered with care, "the Council has decided. It is a waste of energy to protest further, and of course they know best." Adi nodded in approval.
Anakin scowled at them both, tugging his arms away from Adi and standing up to leave. "It's risky," he warned, his voice barely a hiss, "to send people into my mind." Then he made a truly valiant attempt to flee into the sanctuary of his own bedroom.
Adi seemed appalled by his bad manners, but Obi-Wan managed to convince her that Anakin was still suffering. She nodded at this and bid her goodbyes. Obi-Wan went after Anakin himself, long after Adi Gallia's presence was gone.
Obi-Wan made a noise somewhere between a purr and a snarl. "Said something? Such as?"
"Anything!" Anakin gave him a halfhearted glare. "You could have backed me up. Told her we'd worked through it on our own, and didn't need their help."
"Because, of course we know how amiable Adi Gallia is." Obi-Wan shrugged, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"They're going to find out." Anakin warned again, pressed against him. "They're going to find out and take you away from me. What will we do then, Master?"
"They won't take you away," Obi-Wan crooned softly. "I won't let them do that. We'll just have to work together to shield that part of your mind from them."
Anakin tilted his head back and kissed the underside of Obi-Wan's chin. He allowed his lips to trace his Master's fuzzy jaw.
"Yes, Master," he breathed submissively. "Best get to work on that, hm?" He loved the feeling of Obi-Wan touching his mind…almost as much as he loved him touching his body.
Obi-Wan smirked.
"Hello, Padawan Skywalker."
"Hi," he eyed her warily. She was acting like he was a time bomb. But, considering where he was, he supposed that wasn't too surprising.
"My name is Malora Aspic." She smiled and plucked a ribbon from her desk to tie up her long, blonde hair. "I know that the process of Soul Healing can be troubling, when you already have so much burden on you, but I hope that with my help your pain will be eased."
"I'm not in any pain." Anakin tried to convince her, sitting down in the nearest chair. He and Obi-Wan had worked on his shield a lot, the night before, but he'd just as soon avoid testing those particular waters.
"It's easier to deny," Malora nodded sympathetically, as she sat down beside him. She had long, delicate fingers. She gently stroked one across his temple, and he shivered involuntarily. "I will not press you farther than you are willing to go. We can work towards your recovery gradually."
Anakin's eyebrows knitted up, and he wished she'd quit touching him. He didn't want anyone but Obi-Wan and his mother to touch him.
"Just please stay out of my head." He requested with a tried sigh. "I'll tell you what you need to know, but I don't want you poking around where you don't belong." Or, he'd tell her a version of what she needed to know.
Her smile was terribly hypnotic. She moved her hands, her eyes blinked, and her head moved in a wary way that was reminiscent of a snake.
"Of course." She chimed. Why didn't he believe her?
"Great…" Anakin slumped down slightly, crossing his arms. "Can we just do this, then? I'd like to not waste the whole day here. I'm sure my Master had some training for me."
"Yes, if you are ready to begin," Malora said with another smile, smaller this time.
"Ask away," he made a gesture of invitation. "I can't answer if you don't ask."
"Why don't you tell me your explanation for the self-mutilation?" Well, this chick went straight to it, didn't she? He had to answer…he'd said he would…
"It's just so…" he paused, and sighed dramatically, stalling as he dug up a viable excuse. "Hard, being the Chosen One. Having the fate of humanity and whatnot as my responsibility. Having everyone's expectations all the time, and not having any power over anything. Haven't you ever wanted control over anything? Haven't you ever wanted it to all…go away?" He offered her his best pitiful look.
She smiled. "Yes, dear Padawan, I have, and I do. That is why I do what I do." This seemed vaguely foreboding to Anakin. "Would you like a drink?" She offered politely. "We are going to be talking for quite a while."
Anakin eyed her suspiciously, before accepting finally. He was strong enough to resist drugs, right? Apparently not, because less than a minute after his first sip of the drink she gave him, he started to feel lightheaded.
"Would you like to elaborate further on your problems, dear one?" Malora invited soothingly.
Anakin stared at her for a minute, before opening his mouth. Words started flying every which way, despite his brain's highest protests.
"I just want to keep Master Obi-Wan alive…!" He babbled. "He was going to die, like Master Qui-Gon! I just wanted to keep him safe!"
"You still grieve for Qui-Gon?" Mistress Aspic pursued.
"Yes, sometimes," Anakin admitted, wondering what was in that damn water. "I miss my mother more, though. I don't want to lose Master Obi-Wan, like I lost them…"
Malora nodded, as if she understood. Anakin knew she couldn't, though. "Have you talked with your Master about your fear?"
"He knows." Obi-Wan simply had to know. After all, that was the reason Anakin had gotten himself involved with his Master's cutting habit, to begin with. "He knows, he knows, I'm surprised everyone doesn't know…"
"Do you know just why it is that you fear?" Malora continued to venture. "Is it loneliness? Or is it that you have no control…as you said before?" She added this as if she hadn't believed his earlier sob story.
"Both, neither, I don't know!" He burst out and jumped to his feet. He began to pace around the small room as he continued. "I just love him so much… So dependant…I hate being so dependant on anyone! I can't hate him, though!" He seemed to be getting progressively angrier, and bitterer. "Can't lose him…"
Mistress Aspic remained seated and watched him calmly.
"You have a great deal of emotion, and it seems you have not been releasing it properly." She noted, his tone only mildly interested. "You must take the time to just stop and reflect." She saw he was ready to protest and help up a hand, to silence him and continue. "And that is purely in a mental sense. Pace, by all means."
Anakin paused briefly, before nodding and continuing to pace around. At least she wasn't like Yoda. She didn't tell him to sit and meditate through his troubles.
"Can't release emotion here. Not really." He continued to rant. "Can't let anyone find out it's there to begin with!"
It was then that she stood. She grasped his biceps, and held him very still. Her thin arms were deceptively strong. He felt as if he were staring at a big abyss…but it wasn't one of those metaphorical pits that people fall into when they become abominably depressed. It was an endless white that was promising. He could let it all go there, and it would be contained inside of her…
"You may trust me." She said. "This is my task, and my duty. I will take up your troubles, so you may be clean."
Anakin looked up at her, feeling somewhat helpless.
"Don't tell anyone what you see." He pleaded quietly with her. "Don't tell them. There's too much darkness, too much fire. Please don't tell."
"Even Master Yoda has his share of darkness and fire," Malora soothed. She reached into him, which disturbed him. What was worse was when she hit one of those walls that he and Obi-Wan had so carefully built the day before. They were connected. She hadn't asked him! She had connected them, and he felt her pain and mental recoil, and her astonishment. For a brief, flaring moment, he knew what she knew. Years of experience with even the most deranged in the galaxy, and no one had stopped her in her tracks before. Her pride, very un-Jedi-like, was wounded.
"You can't go there." Anakin shook his head. "Not there. Even I don't go there. You can't see those memories. Those are mine!" He'd never heard himself sound so viciously defensive before.
But Malora Aspic pressed on. She was a warm creature of light and control. She could control him. She was controlling him. With her song like voice, the hypnotic sway of her head, the rhythmic blink of her eyes, and the drugs… He could feel them, and began to subtly purge them.
"No, no, no…" Anakin whimpered, jerking violently in her hold. "No, please…you can't go there! I told you not to go there! I told you not to poke around where you don't belong, you nosy bitch! Please!" The anger that had built up vanished into despair. Anakin had never fathomed feeling such all consuming terror and sadness all at once. "Please," he repeated, sobbing now. "Those are my memories. They're precious, and dear, and beautiful, and you're going to take them and twist them into something horrible and ugly! Please don't take those from me!"
His voice turned to a high whine when he felt the sharp pain that spread through her head. He had to do something, or she would know. She would break down the walls, and she would see. So, he did the most unpleasant thing he'd ever done. He let down several walls. He held onto Obi-Wan, their memories, but let every else flood her. Everything else. She would drown and be forced to pull back. She would sort through those memories, and she would never know that he'd kept just a few behind…just the important ones. He purged the rest of the drugs from his system, but schooled his features to remain vague and his eyes glassy. Then he whimpered again.
Malora finally released him, a dazed look on her face. "Thank you, Padawan Skywalker. I will do what I can to help you. Please feel free to return to your quarters, perhaps a discussion between you and Master Kenobi will be beneficial."
"Force," he groaned, nodding somewhat. He stopped that quickly, though. It made his head hurt. Swiftly as he could, he fled the small room, before she could notice what he'd done. Though he was already regretting it. It seemed that some of those memories had gotten swept away completely, in the process. He just hoped they were of nothing important. He was so caught up in his inner musing, that he barely noticed when he arrived back at his and Obi-Wan's quarters. Maybe his Master would be home…
"I trust everything has been taken care of now?" He wanted to know.
"No…" Anakin shook his head very slowly. "More than likely not quite. She's quite…good at disassembling shields…and she'll eventually figure out what I did to keep her away from those memories… That won't go over well,
I don't think…"This obviously irritating his Master.
"I'll just have to do something about that, then." Obi-Wan decided firmly. "You've gone to the Soul Healers; I have at least a marginal chance of convincing Mace that further work is unnecessary now. Since Mistress Aspic did not find any cause for stress of your supposed magnitude…"
"Um…about that…" Anakin cut in. His brilliant plan was now making him feel quite stupid. "See, she wouldn't just let me be, so to try and keep her out of my head, I tried to lie. But then there were the drugs, and I'm really…not sure how effective it was." The boy winced. "She didn't get the memories about you, but she did get…everything else."
"She is the best Soul Healer in the galaxy." Obi-Wan muttered sardonically, his eyebrows creasing into one thin, angry, little line.
"Master," Anakin started forward, sitting down in front of him. "Please, don't do anything stupid? I just put a great deal of effort – and potentially personal sacrifice – into keeping you out of trouble."
"I don't do stupid things, Anakin," the man replied.
"Careful," Ani rephrased, leaning up and kissing him. "Very," he mumbled between further kisses. "Very careful."
Obi-Wan smiled, but it was rather dull and unconvincing. "Of course."
"Well?" He wondered, his tone somehow excited and worried all at once.
"We talked, and Mace, in his infinite wisdom, has decided that the Council would rather not strain our bond any further by inserting a third party." Obi-Wan replied, sounding only the least bit smug.
Anakin eyed him, almost unable to believe it, before grinning and hugging him tightly.
"Thank you, Master," he purred contentedly. "I didn't like having anyone other than you in my mind."
Obi-Wan's expression twisted into a sharp smile, and he pulled Anakin to him by the waist.
"You can always depend on me, Ani. I am your Master." He promised silkily, and that was the end of all trains of though.
Things calmed again, after that adventure. The bandages came off, and eventually the stares that Anakin tended to attract died down. He and Obi-Wan were merely more careful, and no one was any the wiser. But there's no road without rocky patches, and the next one came in the form of a Senator. (Senator Something or Other… Anakin hadn't quite caught the name. Armadillo, or the like.)
She was all smooth, pale skin, bright eyes, and excited tones. All of which seemed as if they were trying to entice them, but Anakin faced them with stoicism. She could flirt all she wanted. Not only was he a Jedi, he belonged to Obi-Wan.
For some reason, this made his Master inordinately pleased.
Besides, it was their mission to protect the dainty politician, no more. What Anakin couldn't for the life of him figure out, though, was why she was so happy to see them! Mace had said something about Obi-Wan having had dealt with her before, but Anakin couldn't seem to recall seeing the girl before in his life.
Guarding her was a task that seemed simple enough. Jedi were called upon to protect important enough politicians quite often. The mission did not remain simple though. In the end, Anakin was unhappy to discover that he would have to accompany her back to her home world, while Obi-Wan did covert work…
The more time he spent with her, the more reasons he found not to like her, anyway. She had quite a mouth, she said what she thought and she was forceful with what she said. Her smooth appearance was deceptive of her abrasive tongue, and sharp eyes. Anakin thought of Obi-Wan again and nearly contacted him out of desperation.
"Could you please stop that?" He half begged finally, giving her a pleadingly exasperated look. He was half a step away from catching her wandering fingers, or clamping a hand over her jabbering mouth. She was touching him again, and they hadn't even gotten off the damn freighter! They were close…tantalizingly close. They only had about a day left in those stupidly cramped quarters, but at the rate they were going he was going to kill one of them before they arrived.
Padmé gave him a strange and pouting look, but she stopped for the time being. As soon as they were at her estate, she started up again…which made Anakin want to just leave her there.
"Please, Senator," he caught her delicate hands a bit more roughly than he'd intended, shoving them back toward her nervously. "I don't know what you expect from me, but I'm sure it's entirely inappropriate on every level!"
Padmé gave him an embarrassed look and dropped her hands. "I'm sorry, Ani," she murmured. What? Why had she just gone from 'I'm about to eat you alive' to meek little kitten? He offered her a bemused look, but decided to focus on one mind-boggling element of her apology at a time.
"Master Obi-Wan never called me that in front of you," he addressed his nickname first. She'd called him that before too, now that he thought about it. (He'd thought her insane at that point, as well.) "He's the only one who does."
Amidala blushed deeply. "I'm sorry," she said again. She excused herself quickly, and Anakin was hoping that would be the end of that.
Ani let out a low sigh and decided to excuse himself as well. He headed off to bed, praying that maybe tomorrow she would keep her hands to herself.
Unfortunately, the night was not as pleasant as he'd anticipated. His dreams had started out very nice, but then it had swiftly transformed into a nightmare of epically bloody proportions. So, he spent most of the night outside, staring out over the lake, until Padmé finally came out to bug him some more. Did that woman ever give it a rest? He didn't look at her, but she laid a cautious hand on his arm anyway.
"Are you alright?" she asked gently.
"Fuckin' peachy." He muttered sarcastically. He still didn't look at her, though. Maybe if he stat really still, she'd get bored and go away.
Padmé stroked his arm, which made him tense up. "Ani… Anakin, what's wrong? Please talk to me?"
Finally, he shifted. He narrowed his eyes at her, and jerked away from her grasp.
"What do you care?" He demanded snappishly. "Why do you always care so much? I don't even know you!"
"I just…" she started, looking meek for another moment, before her features hardened. "When Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan helped me…I just felt so close to you. I cared about you, and I thought…you cared about me as well."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He informed her plainly. "I've never seen you before this mission – never heard of you. Master Obi-Wan had to give me a detailed briefing on your political history, so I wouldn't make a total ass of myself. He didn't mention, though, that you sideline as a whore. But you must, as you can't seem to keep your hands off of men who are less available than monks, for two damn seconds!" His nightmares had made him extremely testy. He was worried about Obi-Wan now!
This time, Amidala's flush was angry. She drew her hand back with a jerk. He thought she might try to smack him, and he simply wasn't in the mood.
"Yes. Apparently I was not important at all. I apparently flattered myself, thinking you would remember after ten years. Even though it was me that you cried on, after Master Jinn's funeral!"
Anakin groaned aloud, and let his head fall back in frustration. This was going to make his mission suffer… Fuck, now he had to apologize to the silly girl.
"Listen, Senator," he sighed in a forcedly polite tone. "I'm sorry. That was out of line, but… Really. You must be remembering someone else." He looked back at her tiredly. "I've been a Jedi, with Master Obi-Wan, for as long as I can remember, and I'd…remember you." He looked away from her again. Women made everything difficult. It was a pretty good incentive to keep his eyes trained on men, even if he weren't in love with Obi-Wan – which he very much was, mind. "Please, don't take this the wrong way? You're a very…lovely girl, Senator, but even if the Jedi code didn't forbid it, I could never be with you…like that. Not for years now." He looked back to her, feeling earnest and apologetic now.
Her eyes narrowed. "Remembering some other Anakin Skywalker that I helped rescue off of Tatooine?" She inquired.
"Tatooine?" His attitude turned to confusion. "Why would I have been on Tatooine?" Something wasn't quite meshing…it was time to put his deductive skills to use, and find out what.
"Because you were born there, and lived there with your mother." Padmé hissed. "How could you try acting as if you don't know? Have you forgotten about her as well?" She was this close to hitting him, and calling him an insensitive brat.
Anakin scowled at her. How stupid did she think he was, to fall for such a lame lie?
"I don't – " He started, but then he stopped suddenly. Something jumped to the forefront of his mind. "Oh…shit…"
He mumbled, recalling the unfortunate run-in with Mistress Aspic, and recoiling a little.
Padmé huffed and turned on heel, to leave him there. She didn't have to take this!
"Senator Amidala," Anakin called after her bemusedly. She had a very short fuse, for someone who was apparently so close to him. "I think I might know what's going on, if you actually care."
She stopped and looked over her shoulder impatiently. "What?" She snapped.
"I had a…medical accident, for lack of a better term, a few years ago…" He explained, examining the ground uncomfortably. "Force therapy gone awry, or whatever… Anyway, point is that I was required to do something that normally wouldn't have been done, and lost a lot of memories in the process."
Padmé didn't really seem to believe him, but she didn't call him on it.
"I'll see you in the morning," she said in a much softer voice, before she continued on her way back to her bedroom.
Anakin watched after her voice a long moment, before turning back to the moon-glossed lake. Morning would come soon enough… In the meantime, he had that many more hours to figure out what he could do to help Obi-Wan, and still fulfill his mission to protect Padmé.
"Senator, I believe my Master is in grave danger, and I must ask your leave to go rescue him." He wasn't really asking, and he didn't really give her a chance to say no. He just stood up and left the room, to go gather his few possessions together, and head to Theed so that he could get a ship and leave. He left her gaping after him, as he exited the dining hall, and he half expected her to follow him and protest. But she was too stunned and too annoyed. He left and began the difficult process of actually finding Obi-Wan.
That was how he ended up chained to a pole, in a gladiatorial execution ring, less than two hours later. But…at least he knew where Obi-Wan was now, he sighed to himself as his Master was brought into the ring, shortly after he was. Obi-Wan looked really annoyed. That didn't seem to bode well for anyone.
He was unhappy that Obi-Wan was angry with him, but there was nothing they could do about it right now. Right now they needed to concentrate on escaping.
Anakin once again thanked the Force. He'd had the foresight to send the distress signal back to Coruscant. Maybe the Council would send someone to save them. He put this suggestion up to his Master.
"Yes, they can come pick up our corpses, Anakin," the man grumbled, his body coiling, ready to dodge one of the great creatures.
"Well, you'd be in a lot better position, if I'd left you here dead, to stay with Senator Can't Keep Her Hands to Herself, wouldn't you?" His Padawan half snarled back, ducking swiftly as a large, three-horned beast charged at him. Though, in retrospect, fleeing up may have been wiser than fleeing down, the blonde groused to himself, as he worked hard to scramble out from under the thing's heavy feet and onto its back.
He really didn't hear Obi-Wan's hiss of pained disdain, but he certainly felt it. Well, this was a great way to die. Fighting. Not just with big, heavy monsters, but also with each other. He didn't want to die fighting with the love of his life. Cursing, Anakin realized his next blunder as he almost slipped off the beast again. By the time he had a sturdy seat on it, there were blaster bolts coming from every direction. Anakin groaned aloud. Could this get any worse?
Yes, apparently, for before Anakin had another moment to think, Mace Windu hurdled down from above, his cloak smoking from being set aflame by a blaster bolt, care of the bounty hunter Jango Fett. Bemused, Anakin blinked as he rigged a harness for his monster, with his chair. Momentarily, more Jedi began to stream in… Then Yoda showed up with a few thousand clones. Well, when the Jedi said they were sending back up, they didn't take that promise lightly.
When the beasts were slain, Obi-Wan motioned for Anakin to come with him. They had to stop Dooku, yet.
They were awake, when the old Master arrived, but he suspected it was a near thing. Anakin seemed ridiculously concerned with Obi-Wan's well being, considering the older man had only sustained burns, whereas the Padawan had lost the better part of a crucial limb to the fight.
"Are you alright?" Ani asked his Master hushedly, pushing himself closer still to Obi-Wan, with his feet.
"Yes," Obi-Wan said tersely, and then he tried to reach for Anakin and failed. "What about you, Padawan?" He watched the boy sway dizzily from shock. He wanted to get up and help him, but found himself unable to do any such thing.
"Great, okay, fantastic," Anakin listed, getting close enough to press a kiss to one of Obi-Wan's injuries. He seemed completely oblivious to Yoda's presence. "It only hurts worse than it looks, I'm fine." He babbled off deliriously.
Obi-Wan stared at him for a long, painful moment, before Yoda finally intervened. He looked over them himself, and summoned help. Then he used the Force to send them both off into blissful sleep.
When Anakin finally woke, he examined his shiny, new prosthesis with mute interest, before looking over at Obi-Wan with a wane, concerned smile.
"Are you alright?" He repeated, pushing his body up, to get a better look at his Master.
"Fine." Obi-Wan waved it off. He said nothing more for a long time, because he refused to carry on like a lovesick puppy dog. "I've heard the Healers' reports on you. You should be up soon."
"Good." Anakin laughed a little, inching slowly to the edge of his bed with the intention to climb out. If Obi-Wan was okay, Anakin wanted to be by his side right away. "It's silly to think that losing a hand will take away my ability to control my feet."
"Your body has been sorely taxed." Obi-Wan replied, in his most dull 'Master' voice.
"I'm okay now." The boy promised him, still creeping out of his bed. It was as though he were under the rather absurd impression that moving slowly would keep Obi-Wan from noticing. "Really, taxing it's nothing new."
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Stay in that bed," he ordered. "The Healers will release both of us soon. I have already spoken with the Council, so don't worry about that."
"I miss being held by you." Anakin complained, offering Obi-Wan his best pouty-frown. "You don't know what it was like, being with that girl, Master. I thought I'd choke on her cooties." This was clearly teasing. Then Anakin's tone became soberer again. "I had a vision about you." He admitted softly. "I thought you were dead."
"Have more faith in me." Obi-Wan murmured, sinking back into his pillows. "It will take much more than that to rip me from your side."
Despite his assurances and protests, Anakin still climbed out of his bed and into Obi-Wan's.
"If I hadn't come, and contacted the Council, you'd be bug squash, Master." He remarked dryly.
"Shut up, boy," Kenobi replied, letting his eyes droop closed.
"I would be too," Anakin murmured, lying down pressed close to him. "I think if you'd died, I'd be entirely forced to kill myself. Speaking of which…" he moved his flesh hand up, and stroked Obi-Wan's cheek tenderly. "I'm sure, Master, that after this…horrible ordeal, you'll want some…distraction…won't you?"
"Not now, Ani," Obi-Wan said under his breath. "Not here." He reached deliberately for the steel hand. The implication of 'not ever' hung heavily on the air.
"Please, Master," Anakin ground out, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes. "Please. No one will even have to know – just you and me, like it's supposed to be…" Those moments were so precious to him…so special…
"No." Obi-Wan yawned.
"W-why not?" Anakin tried to offer him a pitiful look, wrapping his good arm around Obi-Wan's neck. He wasn't sure how to make the prosthetic function, yet. That would take months of physical therapy to master. "Why is it you only refuse me when I really need you to? You want this as much as I do – I'm sure of it."
"Don't make me repeat myself." The Master snapped.
"I don't want you to repeat yourself." Ani's expression melted into a scowl. "I want you to explain yourself."
"Don't question your Master," Obi-Wan was giving him a cagey grin now. "I said 'no', that is all there is to it."
"You didn't answer my other question." Anakin reminded him, breathing into his shoulder. "Why is it that you pick now to refuse me? Now, when I ask more than offer?"
"Because you're injured. Now shut up, and let me sleep." Obi-Wan answered flatly, shifting until he could roll onto his side.
Anakin let out a growl, half an inch from biting the tender flesh of Obi-Wan's neck, where his lips rested.
"I am not," he muttered defiantly, "injured. For all you know, this thing might be the best sex toy you've ever had access to! Ever been fondled by a droid, Master? It's quite the experience, I promise."
Obi-Wan twitched.
"No." He snarked. "Now, get off before someone sees."
Anakin's tongue darted out and licked Obi-Wan's neck tantalizingly, before he sat up.
"I don't care if they see." Hr muttered, as he climbed out of the bed and back into his own. Obi-Wan didn't answer him.
Obi-Wan kept saying no.
"Master," Anakin whined, even as they made their way to the Healers' ward, for his physical therapy.
"No," Obi-Wan snapped, he then left the kid there.
"This is getting ridiculous!" Anakin called after him.
Now, during the Clone Wars, it continues.
A shiver passes down Anakin's spine, but he doesn't look at Obi-Wan. He knows – they both know – how much they both need this bizarre intimacy. A battlefield is no place for lovemaking…this is close enough.
"…I'm hooked on you
I need a fix, I can't take it
Just one more hit
I promise, I can deal with it
I'll handle the quitting
Just one more time in
That's it, just a little more
To get me through this…"
Addicted (Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway)
