He responds to the reassurance without finding anything odd about it at all, though he should have. He responded with some wordless gratitude, underlined by a slightly grim It had better, which was an admittedly weird combination.
He was grateful to Anakin.
They had thirty days.
Not to be okay, sure, but to be okay enough.
"I can help you track them down if you need it, but either way take anything here you need and make it happen. We're going to need as-" Not many advantages, but: "Few disadvantages as we can manage."
It wasn't like this was even going to be complicated, strategically, but they were going to be fighting themselves, too. No matter what.
Anakin agreed, he couldn't take offense at that because they needed to succeed.
"Could go out tomorrow. You look like you need to get out."
He paused, and then added, "We should also look for non-saber weapons to start sparing with. It'll be a few more days before I can calmly even hold mine. I don't think we should spar with lightsabers our first few times."
He nodded in agreement to the plan for tomorrow, without verbalizing. He also agrees to other weapons, but.
"I think we need to actually roll it back further. We can practice with other weapons but we're dangerous enough without any additional... instruments." Force ability. "If we're going to tip over and see one another as a threat, I'd much rather be unarmed."
He was worried about Anakin's reaction to him. Anakin had reason to have a terrible reaction to him. He was also worried about him having a bad response to hurting or feeling as though he were hurting Anakin. He was not concerned that he might have a problem with reacting to aggression leveled toward him by Anakin (or anyone else).
"Do what you need, as you need. The timeline here is yours to set. I have the information, regardless. If your timeline doesn't match up, we change the plan and your role within it. This is straight forward. If I have to, I can do it alone." There was no... martyrdom there, right now. It was just a statement.
"Obi-Wan," Anakin said. "We're a team. We'll do this together. Not realizing we were better together was a mistake the Jedi made. We won't make that mistake."
Anakin said that because he didn't want Obi-Wan to go alone. What if Obi-Wan didn't come back? Anakin was better about 'letting go' but if he didn't have to, then he'd rather not.
"I can tell you about the Dark Side user that will be aboard the ship."
They were better together, though he wasn't entirely: "All right, but potential alternate plans stay on the table," he said, firmly. Not with any air of authority or lecture, just him... digging in his heels on the point. "Please tell me what you know."
"Palpatine brought back the rank of Inquisitor shortly before everything fell apart. I was in charge of them, I used them as assassins to help hunt down the remaining Jedi.
"The one that will be on this mission just goes by the name of the Grand Inquisitor. He was the first one. He was a Temple Guard before everything that happened with Ahsoka's expulsion, but he became disillusioned with the Jedi after that and Palpatine used that to his advantage and snatched him up.
"His lightsaber is unique. It's doubled bladed, but it spins on its own. I can draw up the specifications. I think they are obnoxious and actually one of our best advantages, the hilt has more surface area to strike and disable it. It'll also be harder to wield in a ship's corridor."
There was s a... flicker that's almost flash, really, of incredulity from him.
It was the sort of situation and feeling that his Anakin would have interpreted in Obi-Wan doubting him.
In reality? He believed Anakin, trusted the information. He accepted both the situation, and the necessity of action and his role in it. He understood the information that was laid out and how it had come to be.
That didn't mean it made any sense to him. In spite of being perfectly competent - even very good -at both strategy and combat, being a soldier - or general or assassin - fit him about as well as as being a Jedi had fit his student.
He did not dissociate entirely this time, at least. The shift in mental gears wasn't entirely smooth (thunk), and his emotional response to the factual information fell back and away before it happened, but he was still present.
"I'm going to need them. Double bladed doesn't concern me, especially as you said, in a confined space. The overly complicated design also indicates some tendency toward more... flash than is likely well suited to close quarters. The rotation may be a problem. If nothing else it's going to generate an enormous amount of momentum and add power to any attack." His forearms hurt thinking about blocking that nonsense. Possibly because they'd been recently broken. "Though as you said, the hilt's vulnerable and we can use the ship's topography. We will need to make sure to at least move as far into the interior of the ship as possible. Especially with a plan of keeping the ship."
"They are incredibly flashy and only that," Anakin scoffed, derision overly present in his response. The fact that he, Anakin, lover of all things that went boom, found the showy weapons obnoxious, said something about their efficacy. "They really only work because most Jedi have discarded their lightsabers in an effort to hide."
Which brought up another thing Anakin had been thinking about.
"If we can, I want to try to keep the kyber crystals. The Empire has already seized Ilium, so getting new ones right now will be difficult."
It hadn't been all that long since they had gone from the 'saviors' of the Republic, seduced into a role they'd never been meant for, to enemies of the Empire to be executed.
He didn't blame the Jedi for discarding their weapons - and he ever much did.
He did not have Anakin's ... hindsight to act as foresight, but he knew Jedi. Not just the very good examples, but the people.
"Yes, and some of them will have cut themselves off from the force entirely, for similar reasons." Similar. Not the same. He won't deny understanding the temptation of that.
"We'll salvage everything we can, and while I appreciate the intelligence and insight, and it is needed, I'm not sure I can take more than twenty years of in at once." It's self-depreciating, but also lightly humorous on the surface and in the tone but he meets Anakin's gaze seriously. There was a warning there, but not a threat. It was just... that there was a limit to what he could onboard if Anakin wanted him to 'stay with him'.
Anakin reached across to Obi-Wan's hand, like he'd done before earlier in the evening. It was a thing now that they could do. He squeezed his hand and then started collecting the pieces of their project.
"We need to get up early tomorrow to find those Jawas. We should probably go to sleep."
It had been a few days since his lightsaber had first been brought out. Only just the previous night Anakin touched it for the first time. It was not a fun process, but he hadn't thrown it through the wall, and he was still here, work at conquering these issues.
There trip to the Jawas had been successful. They were able to get parts for him to build himself a new arm - it wasn't finished yet, but he was confident he would get it installed and kinks mostly worked out by the time they rescued Master Unduli.
He had started practicing the lightsaber forms on his own, though without his lightsaber for now. And he tried to do it mindful of Obi-Wan by utilizing the early mornings and evenings some distance away from the hut. The footwork was the easiest part, practicing mostly with his left hand was more difficult.
Today, however, they'd agreed to try sparring together - without weapons - for the first time.
It was early morning, the suns were just peeking over the horizon. It was still cold, but not freezing, and they would be sweating soon enough even with the temperature.
He squared off across from Obi-Wan and planted his feet in the first of the most simplest forms for non-weapon, hand to hand combat.
"I'm ready." Maybe. Right now, he felt fine. He hoped this wouldn't set them back.
There was another one of those seconds, one of those hang-fire points, where he actually again came close to saying 'I can't do this' and just turning and walking away.
Some of that, he realized in that exact second, was just that he had ...given up the rest of his life on the Tantive IV. Not in the sense of dying, but he'd said he'd spend the rest of his life looking over look and he'd been okay with it. Because it served a purpose, because it was necessary, but -
The plan for the rest of his life wasn't far above some sort of half-life and now he was....
Doing something else entirely.
Once he realized that, it got a lot easier to stop thinking 'can't' , on any level, because he knew it for what it was: passive resistance to the idea that he wasn't really all that done.
He looked across at Anakin, gave him a moment, and then went in after him. Fairly slowly, more telgraphing, pretty formalized. Something he would have used with a 16 or 17 year old padwan. Not easy to the point of condescending, but something that would let him gauge where Anakin was, before going any further.
Anakin prefered the simplicity for this exercise. This simple form recalled memories of training at the Temple when he was just a Padawan, rather than that final battle on Mustafar. The forms had been difficult when he was first learning them, but the only negative feelings associated with those memories were of frustration over learning to grasp new concepts. But that was a matter of a lack of skill.
The problem now was conquering emotions.
So far, the first strike from Obi-Wan didn't send his emotions spiraling, he just followed the form into a block, then a retreat. From there he followed through with his own strike.
Obi-Wan dodged, deflected, and then came back at Anakin again. They found a rhythm.
They - or he at least - gradually pushed both difficulty and tempo. Turned the sparring session into something that was still relatively straightforward (for them, at least), but it turned into an actual sparring session and a workout, and honestly? It felt pretty good.
Until it didn't.
Which was the second Anakin grabbed hold of his wrist. At that second the pressure around his wrist and something about the angle of it may as well have transported him to the control room in Mustfar. He could smell ash and singed electrical circuits, hear Anakin screaming about being sick of lectures and all but feel the bones in his arm starting to splinter under impossible force.
Just fine to absolutely, but silent, screaming terror.
His heart-rate shot up, from mildly elevated to racing out of control, his vision swam, his pupils dilated, and he -
-stopped.
Stopped moving. Stopped reacting. Stopped responding. Stopped breathing. His hands fell open and he went completely, utterly, passive.
Because passive, instead of fighting back, was just about all he had enough even remotely functioning brain to be able to do to protect Anakin.
Caught up in the moment, Anakin didn't notice the flash point of Obi-Wan being triggered. Didn't realize the reason he could follow through with the throw was because Obi-Wan had stopped.
Didn't realize until he was throwing Obi-Wan that the maneuver had been drastically too easy compared to everything else they'd been doing.
His memories changed from the controlled mats of the Temple training rooms to the platforms of the mining facility on Mustafar. His vision bled molten red. The suns' heat now felt suffocating. And his emotions boiled from a rage he didn't want to own.
Obi-Wan wasn't lying in the sand of a desert planet, Anakin was holding down an enemy on the control room floor.
"Fuck!" to borrow the phrase from his new life.
He let go and backed up, kept repeating the expletive.
"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. Fuck!"
A step forward because he wanted to help. But he'd done this! So a step back again.
The absolute utter laxness in his body - the passivity - meant that he didn't make hitting the ground harder or more likely to be damaging by tensing up. It also meant that he didn't do a damned thing to mitigate how hard he hit the ground - not physically, not with the force.
The sum total was that the throw didn't do any damage to him, but it did mean that he hit the ground hard, and his teeth snapped together so hard it was audible, and he bit his tongue in the process.
The taste of blood was nauseating.
The choking rage around him, and terror in him, were more so.
He continued not to respond to Anakin (or anything else) when Anakin initially backed off. He stayed exactly where he landed, tasting blood and staring without blinking into the still brightening Tatooine sky.
His name made him blink, take a breath again after having the wind knocked out of him, and roll over onto his side. "Not your fault," he murmured. He meant it.
Then slowly climbed to his feet.
He made it exactly one step toward Anakin before his head spun and he fell back to his knees. He was going to need a second here.
He wanted to rush to Obi-Wan's side. He had so many good memories of being there when Obi-Wan got knocked down - by someone not him - and checking on him. As his master, Obi-Wan had a tendency to never stop to address his own health, but as his padawan, Anakin had unconsciously developed a habit of being the one to look out for those needs.
Obi-Wan needed that now. But Anakin was afraid he'd hurt him more.
And they were the only two people for kilometers. They didn't even have a droid he could use as an intermediary.
Fear usually made Anakin act, but not this time, not when he was pretty sure acting would just injury Obi-Wan more.
He stayed down for another moment or two. Stayed on his knees, dropped his head, closed his eyes and breathed. Slowly, deliberately, intentionally.
No mindfulness exercise going on, because that wasn't his world - but did he take a second, drop down, and at least established physical control of himself. Got his heart rate down, stopped himself shaking, pushed nausea out of the way.
Then he pushed himself back up to stand again.
He had not lost track of Anakin, or Anakin's frantic fear.
He walked over to Anakin, himself, and put one hand on each shoulder - very lightly.
"Anakin." Softly. "Breathe. Just. Breathe."
Obi-Wan was still out of his head, in most regards, shaken and sick and afraid - but priorities.
Anakin noticeably flinched when Obi-Wan touched him. His first instinct was to back up, put distance between them. Do no more harm.
"I'm sorry," he choked out. He tried to follow instructions, but he was shit at it. Breathing was extremely difficult for some reason. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize- I should have stopped. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He kept his touch light enough to give Anakin room to flinch, but he didn't remove his hands. Just waited out the flinch before he let them settle, then slid one around to the back of Anakin's neck and pulled him lightly in.
He was starting to shake again, and he wasn't even sure if it's his own emotions rearing up again, or him being affected by Anakin's.
"I know you are. Look up. Straight up." Look at the sky, Anakin.
And when Obi-Wan pulled Anakin in, it was like a switch had flipped and Anakin just clung onto Obi-Wan. Maybe it was because Obi-Wan was shaking and Anakin wanted to make it stop. Maybe it was because if he let go they would both slip away. And they couldn't slip away, they had a goal, a mission to complete. They had to stay present.
Slowly, breathing became easy again.
"Are you okay?" he finally asked. And then mentally scolded himself for not putting that first.
Anakin clinging to him helped. He closed his eyes as Anakin started breathing again, and turned his head in toward Anakin. His grip on Anakin stayed pretty light, but he was definitely, finally, allowing himself to lean into him a little. Not so much physically, though that whole 'touch to ground himself' thing was becoming a habit, but still a cautious lean.
As evidenced by his quiet: "No." He was not okay. But: "It still isn't your fault."
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He was grateful to Anakin.
They had thirty days.
Not to be okay, sure, but to be okay enough.
"I can help you track them down if you need it, but either way take anything here you need and make it happen. We're going to need as-" Not many advantages, but: "Few disadvantages as we can manage."
It wasn't like this was even going to be complicated, strategically, but they were going to be fighting themselves, too. No matter what.
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"Could go out tomorrow. You look like you need to get out."
He paused, and then added, "We should also look for non-saber weapons to start sparing with. It'll be a few more days before I can calmly even hold mine. I don't think we should spar with lightsabers our first few times."
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"I think we need to actually roll it back further. We can practice with other weapons but we're dangerous enough without any additional... instruments." Force ability. "If we're going to tip over and see one another as a threat, I'd much rather be unarmed."
He was worried about Anakin's reaction to him. Anakin had reason to have a terrible reaction to him. He was also worried about him having a bad response to hurting or feeling as though he were hurting Anakin. He was not concerned that he might have a problem with reacting to aggression leveled toward him by Anakin (or anyone else).
That was going to bite him, later. Probably.
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"We'll take it slow. I know that we have a timeline. But I can start practicing forms on my own also before we try anything together."
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And in truth?
He didn't want to do it alone.
But he absolutely could.
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Anakin said that because he didn't want Obi-Wan to go alone. What if Obi-Wan didn't come back? Anakin was better about 'letting go' but if he didn't have to, then he'd rather not.
"I can tell you about the Dark Side user that will be aboard the ship."
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"Palpatine brought back the rank of Inquisitor shortly before everything fell apart. I was in charge of them, I used them as assassins to help hunt down the remaining Jedi.
"The one that will be on this mission just goes by the name of the Grand Inquisitor. He was the first one. He was a Temple Guard before everything that happened with Ahsoka's expulsion, but he became disillusioned with the Jedi after that and Palpatine used that to his advantage and snatched him up.
"His lightsaber is unique. It's doubled bladed, but it spins on its own. I can draw up the specifications. I think they are obnoxious and actually one of our best advantages, the hilt has more surface area to strike and disable it. It'll also be harder to wield in a ship's corridor."
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It was the sort of situation and feeling that his Anakin would have interpreted in Obi-Wan doubting him.
In reality? He believed Anakin, trusted the information. He accepted both the situation, and the necessity of action and his role in it. He understood the information that was laid out and how it had come to be.
That didn't mean it made any sense to him. In spite of being perfectly competent - even very good -at both strategy and combat, being a soldier - or general or assassin - fit him about as well as as being a Jedi had fit his student.
He did not dissociate entirely this time, at least. The shift in mental gears wasn't entirely smooth (thunk), and his emotional response to the factual information fell back and away before it happened, but he was still present.
"I'm going to need them. Double bladed doesn't concern me, especially as you said, in a confined space. The overly complicated design also indicates some tendency toward more... flash than is likely well suited to close quarters. The rotation may be a problem. If nothing else it's going to generate an enormous amount of momentum and add power to any attack." His forearms hurt thinking about blocking that nonsense. Possibly because they'd been recently broken. "Though as you said, the hilt's vulnerable and we can use the ship's topography. We will need to make sure to at least move as far into the interior of the ship as possible. Especially with a plan of keeping the ship."
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Which brought up another thing Anakin had been thinking about.
"If we can, I want to try to keep the kyber crystals. The Empire has already seized Ilium, so getting new ones right now will be difficult."
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It hadn't been all that long since they had gone from the 'saviors' of the Republic, seduced into a role they'd never been meant for, to enemies of the Empire to be executed.
He didn't blame the Jedi for discarding their weapons - and he ever much did.
He did not have Anakin's ... hindsight to act as foresight, but he knew Jedi. Not just the very good examples, but the people.
"Yes, and some of them will have cut themselves off from the force entirely, for similar reasons." Similar. Not the same. He won't deny understanding the temptation of that.
"We'll salvage everything we can, and while I appreciate the intelligence and insight, and it is needed, I'm not sure I can take more than twenty years of in at once." It's self-depreciating, but also lightly humorous on the surface and in the tone but he meets Anakin's gaze seriously. There was a warning there, but not a threat. It was just... that there was a limit to what he could onboard if Anakin wanted him to 'stay with him'.
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"We need to get up early tomorrow to find those Jawas. We should probably go to sleep."
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Amazing what a year, betrayal, and wholesale slaughter could do.
"We should." He followed Anakin to his feet, and helped make sure that project could be picked up again. "Which means we should go to bed."
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There trip to the Jawas had been successful. They were able to get parts for him to build himself a new arm - it wasn't finished yet, but he was confident he would get it installed and kinks mostly worked out by the time they rescued Master Unduli.
He had started practicing the lightsaber forms on his own, though without his lightsaber for now. And he tried to do it mindful of Obi-Wan by utilizing the early mornings and evenings some distance away from the hut. The footwork was the easiest part, practicing mostly with his left hand was more difficult.
Today, however, they'd agreed to try sparring together - without weapons - for the first time.
It was early morning, the suns were just peeking over the horizon. It was still cold, but not freezing, and they would be sweating soon enough even with the temperature.
He squared off across from Obi-Wan and planted his feet in the first of the most simplest forms for non-weapon, hand to hand combat.
"I'm ready." Maybe. Right now, he felt fine. He hoped this wouldn't set them back.
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There was another one of those seconds, one of those hang-fire points, where he actually again came close to saying 'I can't do this' and just turning and walking away.
Some of that, he realized in that exact second, was just that he had ...given up the rest of his life on the Tantive IV. Not in the sense of dying, but he'd said he'd spend the rest of his life looking over look and he'd been okay with it. Because it served a purpose, because it was necessary, but -
The plan for the rest of his life wasn't far above some sort of half-life and now he was....
Doing something else entirely.
Once he realized that, it got a lot easier to stop thinking 'can't' , on any level, because he knew it for what it was: passive resistance to the idea that he wasn't really all that done.
He looked across at Anakin, gave him a moment, and then went in after him. Fairly slowly, more telgraphing, pretty formalized. Something he would have used with a 16 or 17 year old padwan. Not easy to the point of condescending, but something that would let him gauge where Anakin was, before going any further.
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The problem now was conquering emotions.
So far, the first strike from Obi-Wan didn't send his emotions spiraling, he just followed the form into a block, then a retreat. From there he followed through with his own strike.
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Obi-Wan dodged, deflected, and then came back at Anakin again. They found a rhythm.
They - or he at least - gradually pushed both difficulty and tempo. Turned the sparring session into something that was still relatively straightforward (for them, at least), but it turned into an actual sparring session and a workout, and honestly? It felt pretty good.
Until it didn't.
Which was the second Anakin grabbed hold of his wrist. At that second the pressure around his wrist and something about the angle of it may as well have transported him to the control room in Mustfar. He could smell ash and singed electrical circuits, hear Anakin screaming about being sick of lectures and all but feel the bones in his arm starting to splinter under impossible force.
Just fine to absolutely, but silent, screaming terror.
His heart-rate shot up, from mildly elevated to racing out of control, his vision swam, his pupils dilated, and he -
-stopped.
Stopped moving. Stopped reacting. Stopped responding. Stopped breathing. His hands fell open and he went completely, utterly, passive.
Because passive, instead of fighting back, was just about all he had enough even remotely functioning brain to be able to do to protect Anakin.
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Didn't realize until he was throwing Obi-Wan that the maneuver had been drastically too easy compared to everything else they'd been doing.
His memories changed from the controlled mats of the Temple training rooms to the platforms of the mining facility on Mustafar. His vision bled molten red. The suns' heat now felt suffocating. And his emotions boiled from a rage he didn't want to own.
Obi-Wan wasn't lying in the sand of a desert planet, Anakin was holding down an enemy on the control room floor.
"Fuck!" to borrow the phrase from his new life.
He let go and backed up, kept repeating the expletive.
"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. Fuck!"
A step forward because he wanted to help. But he'd done this! So a step back again.
Force, what had he done?
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The sum total was that the throw didn't do any damage to him, but it did mean that he hit the ground hard, and his teeth snapped together so hard it was audible, and he bit his tongue in the process.
The taste of blood was nauseating.
The choking rage around him, and terror in him, were more so.
He continued not to respond to Anakin (or anything else) when Anakin initially backed off. He stayed exactly where he landed, tasting blood and staring without blinking into the still brightening Tatooine sky.
His name made him blink, take a breath again after having the wind knocked out of him, and roll over onto his side. "Not your fault," he murmured. He meant it.
Then slowly climbed to his feet.
He made it exactly one step toward Anakin before his head spun and he fell back to his knees. He was going to need a second here.
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Anakin didn't know what to do.
Shit!
He wanted to rush to Obi-Wan's side. He had so many good memories of being there when Obi-Wan got knocked down - by someone not him - and checking on him. As his master, Obi-Wan had a tendency to never stop to address his own health, but as his padawan, Anakin had unconsciously developed a habit of being the one to look out for those needs.
Obi-Wan needed that now. But Anakin was afraid he'd hurt him more.
And they were the only two people for kilometers. They didn't even have a droid he could use as an intermediary.
Fear usually made Anakin act, but not this time, not when he was pretty sure acting would just injury Obi-Wan more.
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No mindfulness exercise going on, because that wasn't his world - but did he take a second, drop down, and at least established physical control of himself. Got his heart rate down, stopped himself shaking, pushed nausea out of the way.
Then he pushed himself back up to stand again.
He had not lost track of Anakin, or Anakin's frantic fear.
He walked over to Anakin, himself, and put one hand on each shoulder - very lightly.
"Anakin." Softly. "Breathe. Just. Breathe."
Obi-Wan was still out of his head, in most regards, shaken and sick and afraid - but priorities.
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"I'm sorry," he choked out. He tried to follow instructions, but he was shit at it. Breathing was extremely difficult for some reason. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize- I should have stopped. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
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He was starting to shake again, and he wasn't even sure if it's his own emotions rearing up again, or him being affected by Anakin's.
"I know you are. Look up. Straight up." Look at the sky, Anakin.
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And when Obi-Wan pulled Anakin in, it was like a switch had flipped and Anakin just clung onto Obi-Wan. Maybe it was because Obi-Wan was shaking and Anakin wanted to make it stop. Maybe it was because if he let go they would both slip away. And they couldn't slip away, they had a goal, a mission to complete. They had to stay present.
Slowly, breathing became easy again.
"Are you okay?" he finally asked. And then mentally scolded himself for not putting that first.
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As evidenced by his quiet: "No." He was not okay. But: "It still isn't your fault."
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