Chapter 31
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CapCaverna
Not too sore, are you?
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Dinah Alcott dropped to the floor, huffing, her clothes completely soaked in sweat. She… didn't know if she could manage another session tomorrow morning, her everything was aching from the training, and she had been taking it easy since being 'arrested'. Thankfully, nobody was looking.
Still, she wouldn't stop. The Matukai training gave her options; she refused to stay the same hopeless child who'd be captured by Coil, who'd spend the rest of her life trying to recover from drugs.
And if it also made her feel connected, as if Anakin was still by her side, and she wasn't alone, that was a nice bonus.
Alright, maybe it was more than a bonus.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to sit up, but her limbs refused to cooperate, her head falling back to the floor, sweat starting to pool around her… gross.
At least she had muscles; those were cool.
Giving it another minute, she finally managed to get up, slowly dragging herself towards a warm shower, even as she took off the prosthetic Kid Win had made her, a makeshift plastic hand that wouldn't do half the things her previous one could.
Thanks to Miss Militia and a lawyer her family had called, she had only been kept in M/S lockdown for a little bit, but she already knew it would take another week for them to consider releasing her to her parents. At least she'd be able to see them today.
She didn't know how to feel about that. She really, really missed her mother, but she doubted they would ever let her spend time with Anakin again.
Sithspit, she'd probably have to use her powers again just to find a way to keep training.
Standing under the shower, she glared daggers at the hot valve… stupid Missy and her stupid versatile power, why did she have to turn the valve to cold when it was that high?
Instinctively checking if there was anyone looking, she stretched one hand towards the valve and closed her eyes, concentrating on feeling the Force and asking, then demanding it to turn.
Lowering her hand, she huffed, then glared at the immobile valve again. She didn't want to be late, damn it, why couldn't they give her Hal back? He'd be able to solve this.
Hmmm… there was only an eight point five, six, nine percent chance any of the boys would come in if she used their bathroom.
…..
"Dinah?" Miss Militia yelled from outside the bathroom.
Hair wet because her arms still weren't working right, and her lame robot hand wasn't as good as the one Anakin made, she straightened her back and walked out of the bathroom with long steps, arms behind her back, then stopped, took a second to let her muscles stop shaking, and continued slower.
Ugh, she didn't remember being this sore after her sessions with Anakin.
"Why were you using the male bathroom?"
"... Reasons," Dinah said, refusing to tell anyone it was because she couldn't reach the control valve.
"What did I say about your training?" Miss Militia asked, using her remaining arm to press her eyes.
"But… I did take it easy," Dinah grumbled. "I followed the routine from when I had just started!"
Leaning against the back of the sofa, Miss Militia waited until she came closer and pulled the towel from her shoulders, starting to help with her hair. "Dinah, without a healer helping, it takes much longer for your muscles to heal; overstressing them will only cause problems. It's why you don't exercise the same thing every day in an academy."
"Fine, I guess I can wait until Panacea isn't so busy to continue training like this."
"Panacea doesn't take requests."
"That won't be a problem," She declared imperiously, "Eighty-two point three percent chance I can convince her," it was actually ninety-five if she were to share her Matukai training with the older girl, but Dinah wasn't about to tell that to the PRT.
They had already made a fuss before letting her continue training; no way were they going to let her teach someone else.
"Come on, we've a surprise for you," Finishing combing her hair, the hero got up and started leading her towards the door.
"Thanks," Dinah said, following after the woman, her legs incredibly stiff. "I didn't want to be late to meet with mother."
Miss Militia sighed. "Yes, I managed to talk with the Director, and she allowed them to meet with you. How did you know?"
Dinah gave her a deadpan stare. "... I see the future."
Miss Militia shook her head, causing Dinah to frown when she sensed an amused smile under her mask. "I guess you would spend questions on that."
Hmph, anyone would ask about their parents in her situation; she wasn't being childish.
Opening the door, Miss Militia motioned for Dinah to enter, and, even from the outside, she could see her parents. Her Mother was on her feet, a hand clutching her purse while the other was in her father's grasp.
Her father was sitting down, one hand holding his wife for support, even as his head was lowered, a worried look on his face.
It was a comfortable waiting room, with a sofa and two stuffed chairs, a little center table with several magazines piled in one corner, and an ornamental chessboard in the middle. A small TV was in the corner, and Dinah could even see some coloring books and crosswords to pass the time.
She hesitated, frozen in place with fear. How many times did she ask about their deaths? How many times was it almost a certainty?
Inside her mind, her power immediately answered, the overuse starting to give her a light headache. Four point nine, nine, six, seven, two percent chance her parents would die if she were with them.
"...Mom?" she asked, finally stepping into the room.
She almost missed what happened, her parents moving faster than she had ever seen to rush at her, their faces breaking into huge smiles.
"Honey!" her mother shouted; she never shouted. "Oh, honey, you've no idea how much we missed you!"
"Aw… aw…" Dinah couldn't help saying as her father lifted her into his lap, the strength of his embrace causing her aching muscles to hurt, but also sending a wave of warmth through her.
"What's wrong?" Her father said in a worried voice. "They said you were fine, I'll…"
"Mr. Alcott," Miss Militia interrupted. "Dinah is perfectly fine; she simply overworked herself while working out."
"Why was she even doing such a thing? If you think we're going to let her become one of…"
Dinah managed to stop him by pulling on his sleeve, temporarily letting herself act like she had before her power came. "Dad… You know I always liked martial arts."
"But… I thought you preferred dancing?"
Dinah huffed. "I only did that cuz of Mom."
"I'll leave you guys alone now," Miss Militia said, smiling with her eyes. "We've turned off the microphones so you can talk freely. I'll be right around the corner if you need me."
Dinah spent half an hour in her Mom's embrace, and it felt better than it had ever felt before, to just stop caring about the future for a few moments, but as the time passed, she realized she had been stupid… things could never be the same.
She loved her parents; seeing them again was what she had been looking forward to the most after Coil… but she couldn't feel safe with them.
It wasn't the same, as a child she had always thought the safest place in the world was beside her mother, now she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it wasn't… it didn't feel nice.
Dinah sighed, leaning back against her mother and letting herself enjoy her warmth, listening to her talk about school and how her friends were doing. 'Chances that PRT will be able to read anything I write using the table?'
Ninety-eight point three, two, two percent.
'Chances that PRT will be able to read anything I write if I try to hide it while on the sofa?'
Twelve point five, two, nine, four, six percent.
Good enough, grabbing one of the pens for crosswords, she grabbed a clean sheet of paper and made a show of making a stupid drawing on the front. When she was done, she pretended to lean back on the sofa, using a magazine for support as she started writing something at the back.
"Mom, how good is the lawyer you guys hired to help me?"
"What?" Her mother paused her story, looking down on her. "Why'd you ask that?"
"I'm tired of staying here. I want to leave as soon as I can," she said, feeling a spike of guilt as she lied, or… well, it wasn't really a lie.
"Your uncle Roy hired a bigshot who specializes in parahumans," her father smiled at her. "Don't worry, princess, Mister Calle will get you out of here soon."
"Say, if I gave him a bunch of questions, do you think Uncle will hire him for someone else?"
"Dinah Alcott, we're NOT hiring a lawyer for that… that kidnapper!"
Dinah grimaced. Would her mom's opinion change if she had the entire story? If she knew how powerless they were? She… didn't want to tell her.
"Not him," she shook her head. "My minion."
"Your what?!"
"I mean, she doesn't know she's my minion," Dinah smirked at her father, her voice growing heavier. "But I'll make her an offer she can't refuse."
"I shouldn't have let you watch those movies with me," her dad sighed. "Princess, I…"
Slipping the paper inside her mother's purse, Dinah adjusted her position on the sofa. "Father, he's still out there, the one I had to run away from; she can help take him down."
"Honey, let the PRT deal with it, we'll just go home and…"
"He worked for the PRT," Dinah shook her head, then she used her last resort, looking up at her father with her best sad eyes. "Daddy, I can see the future; they're not going to get him without this, please."
"You're sure you need this?" She nodded, her father hugged her, squeezing her head against his chest and releasing a long, deep breath. "I'll talk with him, even if he doesn't pay, I will."
"Thanks, daddy."
Headache starting to grow worse, Dinah stopped asking questions and just… let herself be with her parents, her body relaxing against them as she laid her head against her father's lap. "So, did Marissa finish our project for school?"
—-------------
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"... Master," Anakin said, cold voice masking his surprise.
He had never thought he'd meet his former master again, hadn't known it was even possible, but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. There was still much about the Force he didn't know.
Unfortunately, now that he stood in front of him, Anakin found that he was still angry; he accepted that much of what happened was his own fault, his own choices, but he still resented Obi-Wan for his failures in guiding him.
Obi-Wan looked into his eyes, a deep sadness in his face as he answered. "I made too many mistakes with you to deserve that title, Anakin."
The tension between them made the air heavy, the Force itself offering no guidance to their interaction, letting the words hang between them without pushing in any direction.
Stopping his Matukai training, Anakin took a rigid stance, arms behind his back. "Am I? Anakin once more, I mean?"
Obi-Wan stepped away from the table, glancing at the new lightsaber once before staring out towards where Dinah was. Finally, he spoke with a tired voice. "Are you the same Anakin I rescued from Tatooine? The same rebellious young man I called a brother?"
Anakin didn't say anything, didn't even move, just waited for an answer he already knew, his senses focused entirely on the Force ghost in front of him.
"Would it help if I said yes?" Sighing, his former Master shook his head. "No, you don't need me to lie; neither of us is the same as back then, but Luke could sense him in you, and he was right. I can already see hints of the man you were in the one you're trying to become."
Taking one arm off his back, Anakin stared at his open hand, remembering all he had done with it. "I betrayed everything I believed in for a lie, I hunted every Jedi that survived the war, I killed children… There is no return from what I've done."
"Progress isn't made by walking backwards," still looking towards where he could sense Dinah, Obi-Wan gave him a glance from the corner of his eye. "You can't undo what happened, but turning against the Emperor was a good first step to the path forward."
Unable to keep his emotions in check, Anakin started to pace, both anger and regret rising to the front. "I did not turn back for you, or the Jedi, I did it for him, there was nothing noble in that."
"That you think so is one of my greatest failings as a master," Obi-Wan said in a quiet voice. "Your ability to love is your greatest strength, Anakin. It was your inability to deal with said love that made it a weakness, and that was the Jedi… and my fault. Trying to deny such feelings is what caused the Order to fail, to distance ourselves enough that a Sith could stand by our side and we couldn't recognize it."
"You told me to suppress it, to just… let go of my mother, to let go of Padme," For a moment, the entire room shook as his anger kept rising, a loose piece of metal almost flying just centimeters to the side of his master and burying itself on the wall. "You cut me down! You left me to die!"
"Yes, back then I failed you, as a master, as a friend and as a brother. I failed you when I didn't teach you to deal with your love, and I failed you again when I gave up, when I didn't drag you out of that pit and did everything in my power to put it right even if it took decades.
"I'll forever carry that guilt with me, and if you need to yell, I'll gladly carry your anger too, I believe I deserve at least some of it, but I'm glad that Luke proved me wrong."
For a minute, Anakin just strided across the room, barely able to keep his presence in the Force from crushing the delicate equipment in the workshop, from twisting both metal and wood, turning it all to dust, his head lowered and a hint of yellow threatening to fill his eyes.
Obi-Wan gave him space, turning towards him but saying nothing as he attempted to regain control, just standing close enough that he knew he wasn't alone, and, in the end, that was enough.
Looking away from the man, Anakin spoke. "I still see him, the armor, the mask, the rage, when I look in the mirror… Whenever I meditate… There's so little of me left."
"And what does she see, the girl you took as a padawan?" Obi-Wan gave him a bitter smile. "Do you think Luke saw only the mask?"
Finally, he turned towards his former master. "I killed younglings, I choked my wife. Tell me, how can a man like that deserve to live?"
"Life rarely is about what one deserves," Obi-Wan said, stepping closer. "Mercy found you through your son, the Force willed that you live… and there's still those that need you, particularly here, can't you sense it?"
Anakin couldn't, his ability to sense the will of the Force had always been steered by his emotions and, while he knew the Force had guided him here, he was still uncertain if he wanted, or trusted, himself with its goal.
Finally, some of Anakin's anger abated giving way to another emotion. "And what if I fall again?"
"You won't," Obi-Wan said as if there was no doubt in his mind. "Not again, not while she still needs you, not when your Son is going to need you in the future. Not believing in you is a mistake I won't make a second time."
"... Why are you here? Why now?"
"You know why, and would you have listened before?" The old man asked while lifting an eyebrow. "Without destroying the city?"
Anakin huffed, but he knew he wouldn't. Even after taking the youngling under his wing, he would not have responded well to Obi-Wan showing up, and it was only now, guiding Dinah from a distance, that he had opened himself to the Force enough for it to happen anyway.
Releasing a long breath, he finally stopped beside his former master, his former friend. Things were not fine between them, too much had happened, too much pain, too much betrayal, but for a short moment, Anakin allowed himself to put it all aside and just stared out the window into the bay.
Standing there by Obi-Wan, without the pain of his wounds, without the ever constant hate that permeated his last years, he was reminded of a better time, a time where he was actually happy. It made him feel younger, if only for a little bit.
"You're right, Anakin, it's time you stopped hiding," Obi-Wan finally said. "You were always stronger when you connected with people, when you let yourself care."
"I cared too much. It's what drove me to slay an entire tribe when my mother died. Even now I'm still tempted."
"You're not the same inexperienced boy who fought the Clone Wars, the one who didn't know how to deal with loss. And do you honestly think denying yourself would make it easier, or would it just give you something else to regret?"
Anakin let the words hang in the air. His former master was right; he'd been avoiding any connections, thinking it was easier not to care, safer.
But he had spent enough time hiding, centering himself… And inaction was never something he could accept. Even now, he struggled, dealing with Lung and the Empire while trying to remain distant.
"I don't suppose you can just tell me why the Force sent me to this planet? You are a part of it now."
"A small part," Obi-Wan corrected. "You, better than anyone, should understand how vast the Force is. Even from here, I can't see everything. My advice? Trust in the Force."
Anakin snorted. "... You always liked being mysterious."
"And you, my friend, always had terrible patience."
"Will I see you again?" Anakin asked before an uncomfortable silence could settle between them.
"You're healed, your connection to the Force fully restored. Now that you've seen it happen, are you telling me you couldn't call upon me if you wanted?"
He could, he'd felt how after only a minute in Obi-Wan's presence, but they both knew he wouldn't, not anytime soon, he… enjoyed talking with the man again, and he needed to hear some of what was said, it was closure, but the wounds were too raw to be opened so soon.
"Goodbye, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "May the Force be with you."
Anakin didn't say anything, just watched the light fade from the room, leaving him alone once more, his shadow seeming to stretch over the floor and cover the entire wall. Out in the city, the sun was just setting, an orange color filling the sky.
With a wave of his hand, Anakin used the Force to put everything back into place, deformed metal straightening and dropped equipment flying back into shelves, his lightsaber flying back to his waist as he stepped closer to the window.
His reflection in the glass stared back, a hint of yellow still in his eyes but fading fast as he regained control of his temperament. Obi-Wan was right; he would not allow himself to fall again.
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Still, she wouldn't stop. The Matukai training gave her options; she refused to stay the same hopeless child who'd be captured by Coil, who'd spend the rest of her life trying to recover from drugs.
And if it also made her feel connected, as if Anakin was still by her side, and she wasn't alone, that was a nice bonus.
Alright, maybe it was more than a bonus.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to sit up, but her limbs refused to cooperate, her head falling back to the floor, sweat starting to pool around her… gross.
At least she had muscles; those were cool.
Giving it another minute, she finally managed to get up, slowly dragging herself towards a warm shower, even as she took off the prosthetic Kid Win had made her, a makeshift plastic hand that wouldn't do half the things her previous one could.
Thanks to Miss Militia and a lawyer her family had called, she had only been kept in M/S lockdown for a little bit, but she already knew it would take another week for them to consider releasing her to her parents. At least she'd be able to see them today.
She didn't know how to feel about that. She really, really missed her mother, but she doubted they would ever let her spend time with Anakin again.
Sithspit, she'd probably have to use her powers again just to find a way to keep training.
Standing under the shower, she glared daggers at the hot valve… stupid Missy and her stupid versatile power, why did she have to turn the valve to cold when it was that high?
Instinctively checking if there was anyone looking, she stretched one hand towards the valve and closed her eyes, concentrating on feeling the Force and asking, then demanding it to turn.
Lowering her hand, she huffed, then glared at the immobile valve again. She didn't want to be late, damn it, why couldn't they give her Hal back? He'd be able to solve this.
Hmmm… there was only an eight point five, six, nine percent chance any of the boys would come in if she used their bathroom.
…..
"Dinah?" Miss Militia yelled from outside the bathroom.
Hair wet because her arms still weren't working right, and her lame robot hand wasn't as good as the one Anakin made, she straightened her back and walked out of the bathroom with long steps, arms behind her back, then stopped, took a second to let her muscles stop shaking, and continued slower.
Ugh, she didn't remember being this sore after her sessions with Anakin.
"Why were you using the male bathroom?"
"... Reasons," Dinah said, refusing to tell anyone it was because she couldn't reach the control valve.
"What did I say about your training?" Miss Militia asked, using her remaining arm to press her eyes.
"But… I did take it easy," Dinah grumbled. "I followed the routine from when I had just started!"
Leaning against the back of the sofa, Miss Militia waited until she came closer and pulled the towel from her shoulders, starting to help with her hair. "Dinah, without a healer helping, it takes much longer for your muscles to heal; overstressing them will only cause problems. It's why you don't exercise the same thing every day in an academy."
"Fine, I guess I can wait until Panacea isn't so busy to continue training like this."
"Panacea doesn't take requests."
"That won't be a problem," She declared imperiously, "Eighty-two point three percent chance I can convince her," it was actually ninety-five if she were to share her Matukai training with the older girl, but Dinah wasn't about to tell that to the PRT.
They had already made a fuss before letting her continue training; no way were they going to let her teach someone else.
"Come on, we've a surprise for you," Finishing combing her hair, the hero got up and started leading her towards the door.
"Thanks," Dinah said, following after the woman, her legs incredibly stiff. "I didn't want to be late to meet with mother."
Miss Militia sighed. "Yes, I managed to talk with the Director, and she allowed them to meet with you. How did you know?"
Dinah gave her a deadpan stare. "... I see the future."
Miss Militia shook her head, causing Dinah to frown when she sensed an amused smile under her mask. "I guess you would spend questions on that."
Hmph, anyone would ask about their parents in her situation; she wasn't being childish.
Opening the door, Miss Militia motioned for Dinah to enter, and, even from the outside, she could see her parents. Her Mother was on her feet, a hand clutching her purse while the other was in her father's grasp.
Her father was sitting down, one hand holding his wife for support, even as his head was lowered, a worried look on his face.
It was a comfortable waiting room, with a sofa and two stuffed chairs, a little center table with several magazines piled in one corner, and an ornamental chessboard in the middle. A small TV was in the corner, and Dinah could even see some coloring books and crosswords to pass the time.
She hesitated, frozen in place with fear. How many times did she ask about their deaths? How many times was it almost a certainty?
Inside her mind, her power immediately answered, the overuse starting to give her a light headache. Four point nine, nine, six, seven, two percent chance her parents would die if she were with them.
"...Mom?" she asked, finally stepping into the room.
She almost missed what happened, her parents moving faster than she had ever seen to rush at her, their faces breaking into huge smiles.
"Honey!" her mother shouted; she never shouted. "Oh, honey, you've no idea how much we missed you!"
"Aw… aw…" Dinah couldn't help saying as her father lifted her into his lap, the strength of his embrace causing her aching muscles to hurt, but also sending a wave of warmth through her.
"What's wrong?" Her father said in a worried voice. "They said you were fine, I'll…"
"Mr. Alcott," Miss Militia interrupted. "Dinah is perfectly fine; she simply overworked herself while working out."
"Why was she even doing such a thing? If you think we're going to let her become one of…"
Dinah managed to stop him by pulling on his sleeve, temporarily letting herself act like she had before her power came. "Dad… You know I always liked martial arts."
"But… I thought you preferred dancing?"
Dinah huffed. "I only did that cuz of Mom."
"I'll leave you guys alone now," Miss Militia said, smiling with her eyes. "We've turned off the microphones so you can talk freely. I'll be right around the corner if you need me."
Dinah spent half an hour in her Mom's embrace, and it felt better than it had ever felt before, to just stop caring about the future for a few moments, but as the time passed, she realized she had been stupid… things could never be the same.
She loved her parents; seeing them again was what she had been looking forward to the most after Coil… but she couldn't feel safe with them.
It wasn't the same, as a child she had always thought the safest place in the world was beside her mother, now she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it wasn't… it didn't feel nice.
Dinah sighed, leaning back against her mother and letting herself enjoy her warmth, listening to her talk about school and how her friends were doing. 'Chances that PRT will be able to read anything I write using the table?'
Ninety-eight point three, two, two percent.
'Chances that PRT will be able to read anything I write if I try to hide it while on the sofa?'
Twelve point five, two, nine, four, six percent.
Good enough, grabbing one of the pens for crosswords, she grabbed a clean sheet of paper and made a show of making a stupid drawing on the front. When she was done, she pretended to lean back on the sofa, using a magazine for support as she started writing something at the back.
"Mom, how good is the lawyer you guys hired to help me?"
"What?" Her mother paused her story, looking down on her. "Why'd you ask that?"
"I'm tired of staying here. I want to leave as soon as I can," she said, feeling a spike of guilt as she lied, or… well, it wasn't really a lie.
"Your uncle Roy hired a bigshot who specializes in parahumans," her father smiled at her. "Don't worry, princess, Mister Calle will get you out of here soon."
"Say, if I gave him a bunch of questions, do you think Uncle will hire him for someone else?"
"Dinah Alcott, we're NOT hiring a lawyer for that… that kidnapper!"
Dinah grimaced. Would her mom's opinion change if she had the entire story? If she knew how powerless they were? She… didn't want to tell her.
"Not him," she shook her head. "My minion."
"Your what?!"
"I mean, she doesn't know she's my minion," Dinah smirked at her father, her voice growing heavier. "But I'll make her an offer she can't refuse."
"I shouldn't have let you watch those movies with me," her dad sighed. "Princess, I…"
Slipping the paper inside her mother's purse, Dinah adjusted her position on the sofa. "Father, he's still out there, the one I had to run away from; she can help take him down."
"Honey, let the PRT deal with it, we'll just go home and…"
"He worked for the PRT," Dinah shook her head, then she used her last resort, looking up at her father with her best sad eyes. "Daddy, I can see the future; they're not going to get him without this, please."
"You're sure you need this?" She nodded, her father hugged her, squeezing her head against his chest and releasing a long, deep breath. "I'll talk with him, even if he doesn't pay, I will."
"Thanks, daddy."
Headache starting to grow worse, Dinah stopped asking questions and just… let herself be with her parents, her body relaxing against them as she laid her head against her father's lap. "So, did Marissa finish our project for school?"
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"... Master," Anakin said, cold voice masking his surprise.
He had never thought he'd meet his former master again, hadn't known it was even possible, but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. There was still much about the Force he didn't know.
Unfortunately, now that he stood in front of him, Anakin found that he was still angry; he accepted that much of what happened was his own fault, his own choices, but he still resented Obi-Wan for his failures in guiding him.
Obi-Wan looked into his eyes, a deep sadness in his face as he answered. "I made too many mistakes with you to deserve that title, Anakin."
The tension between them made the air heavy, the Force itself offering no guidance to their interaction, letting the words hang between them without pushing in any direction.
Stopping his Matukai training, Anakin took a rigid stance, arms behind his back. "Am I? Anakin once more, I mean?"
Obi-Wan stepped away from the table, glancing at the new lightsaber once before staring out towards where Dinah was. Finally, he spoke with a tired voice. "Are you the same Anakin I rescued from Tatooine? The same rebellious young man I called a brother?"
Anakin didn't say anything, didn't even move, just waited for an answer he already knew, his senses focused entirely on the Force ghost in front of him.
"Would it help if I said yes?" Sighing, his former Master shook his head. "No, you don't need me to lie; neither of us is the same as back then, but Luke could sense him in you, and he was right. I can already see hints of the man you were in the one you're trying to become."
Taking one arm off his back, Anakin stared at his open hand, remembering all he had done with it. "I betrayed everything I believed in for a lie, I hunted every Jedi that survived the war, I killed children… There is no return from what I've done."
"Progress isn't made by walking backwards," still looking towards where he could sense Dinah, Obi-Wan gave him a glance from the corner of his eye. "You can't undo what happened, but turning against the Emperor was a good first step to the path forward."
Unable to keep his emotions in check, Anakin started to pace, both anger and regret rising to the front. "I did not turn back for you, or the Jedi, I did it for him, there was nothing noble in that."
"That you think so is one of my greatest failings as a master," Obi-Wan said in a quiet voice. "Your ability to love is your greatest strength, Anakin. It was your inability to deal with said love that made it a weakness, and that was the Jedi… and my fault. Trying to deny such feelings is what caused the Order to fail, to distance ourselves enough that a Sith could stand by our side and we couldn't recognize it."
"You told me to suppress it, to just… let go of my mother, to let go of Padme," For a moment, the entire room shook as his anger kept rising, a loose piece of metal almost flying just centimeters to the side of his master and burying itself on the wall. "You cut me down! You left me to die!"
"Yes, back then I failed you, as a master, as a friend and as a brother. I failed you when I didn't teach you to deal with your love, and I failed you again when I gave up, when I didn't drag you out of that pit and did everything in my power to put it right even if it took decades.
"I'll forever carry that guilt with me, and if you need to yell, I'll gladly carry your anger too, I believe I deserve at least some of it, but I'm glad that Luke proved me wrong."
For a minute, Anakin just strided across the room, barely able to keep his presence in the Force from crushing the delicate equipment in the workshop, from twisting both metal and wood, turning it all to dust, his head lowered and a hint of yellow threatening to fill his eyes.
Obi-Wan gave him space, turning towards him but saying nothing as he attempted to regain control, just standing close enough that he knew he wasn't alone, and, in the end, that was enough.
Looking away from the man, Anakin spoke. "I still see him, the armor, the mask, the rage, when I look in the mirror… Whenever I meditate… There's so little of me left."
"And what does she see, the girl you took as a padawan?" Obi-Wan gave him a bitter smile. "Do you think Luke saw only the mask?"
Finally, he turned towards his former master. "I killed younglings, I choked my wife. Tell me, how can a man like that deserve to live?"
"Life rarely is about what one deserves," Obi-Wan said, stepping closer. "Mercy found you through your son, the Force willed that you live… and there's still those that need you, particularly here, can't you sense it?"
Anakin couldn't, his ability to sense the will of the Force had always been steered by his emotions and, while he knew the Force had guided him here, he was still uncertain if he wanted, or trusted, himself with its goal.
Finally, some of Anakin's anger abated giving way to another emotion. "And what if I fall again?"
"You won't," Obi-Wan said as if there was no doubt in his mind. "Not again, not while she still needs you, not when your Son is going to need you in the future. Not believing in you is a mistake I won't make a second time."
"... Why are you here? Why now?"
"You know why, and would you have listened before?" The old man asked while lifting an eyebrow. "Without destroying the city?"
Anakin huffed, but he knew he wouldn't. Even after taking the youngling under his wing, he would not have responded well to Obi-Wan showing up, and it was only now, guiding Dinah from a distance, that he had opened himself to the Force enough for it to happen anyway.
Releasing a long breath, he finally stopped beside his former master, his former friend. Things were not fine between them, too much had happened, too much pain, too much betrayal, but for a short moment, Anakin allowed himself to put it all aside and just stared out the window into the bay.
Standing there by Obi-Wan, without the pain of his wounds, without the ever constant hate that permeated his last years, he was reminded of a better time, a time where he was actually happy. It made him feel younger, if only for a little bit.
"You're right, Anakin, it's time you stopped hiding," Obi-Wan finally said. "You were always stronger when you connected with people, when you let yourself care."
"I cared too much. It's what drove me to slay an entire tribe when my mother died. Even now I'm still tempted."
"You're not the same inexperienced boy who fought the Clone Wars, the one who didn't know how to deal with loss. And do you honestly think denying yourself would make it easier, or would it just give you something else to regret?"
Anakin let the words hang in the air. His former master was right; he'd been avoiding any connections, thinking it was easier not to care, safer.
But he had spent enough time hiding, centering himself… And inaction was never something he could accept. Even now, he struggled, dealing with Lung and the Empire while trying to remain distant.
"I don't suppose you can just tell me why the Force sent me to this planet? You are a part of it now."
"A small part," Obi-Wan corrected. "You, better than anyone, should understand how vast the Force is. Even from here, I can't see everything. My advice? Trust in the Force."
Anakin snorted. "... You always liked being mysterious."
"And you, my friend, always had terrible patience."
"Will I see you again?" Anakin asked before an uncomfortable silence could settle between them.
"You're healed, your connection to the Force fully restored. Now that you've seen it happen, are you telling me you couldn't call upon me if you wanted?"
He could, he'd felt how after only a minute in Obi-Wan's presence, but they both knew he wouldn't, not anytime soon, he… enjoyed talking with the man again, and he needed to hear some of what was said, it was closure, but the wounds were too raw to be opened so soon.
"Goodbye, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "May the Force be with you."
Anakin didn't say anything, just watched the light fade from the room, leaving him alone once more, his shadow seeming to stretch over the floor and cover the entire wall. Out in the city, the sun was just setting, an orange color filling the sky.
With a wave of his hand, Anakin used the Force to put everything back into place, deformed metal straightening and dropped equipment flying back into shelves, his lightsaber flying back to his waist as he stepped closer to the window.
His reflection in the glass stared back, a hint of yellow still in his eyes but fading fast as he regained control of his temperament. Obi-Wan was right; he would not allow himself to fall again.
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