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Obi-Wan held Anakin close as he screamed and cried, tears and snot dripping down his face, shaking in the force of his terror and grief. “Shhh, shhh, I know, dear one, I know it hurts. Broken bones always do. But it won't hurt for long, little one, I promise.”
The boy sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t, I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Shhh,” Obi-Wan crooned, wrapping an arm tightly around his Padawan’s shoulders and reaching to press the hypospray to his neck as he kissed his hair. “It’s okay.”
Anakin thrashed, knocking the sedative away once more. “I’m sorry!” he howled. “Please! Please no!”
“Kenobi,” Master Windu snapped from where he stood near the wall with Master Che, and Anakin stilled, trembling. “Sedate him already.”
Understanding dawned through the training bond, and Obi-Wan nearly sagged with relief. He glanced down to see his Padawan had laid down, stock still and ramrod straight, staring up at the ceiling and shaking.
Obi-Wan sighed and stroked a knuckle over Anakin’s hair. “Okay?” he murmured.
Anakin nodded, tears still streaming down his face. A hand discreetly reached out to fist itself in Obi’s robes. The bond flooded with… love and light and sacrifice. An undeniable sense of for you, I will do this.
Obi-Wan reached around and pressed the hypo to his Padawan’s neck, depressing the sedative with the flick of a switch.
Anakin still trembled like a leaf, and his hand stayed where it was even as he drifted off to sleep.
Vokara let out a deep breath. “Out,” she ordered Master Windu before nodding to Obi-Wan. “You can stay. Help me get him into the bacta tank.”
Obi-Wan nodded and rushed to make himself useful.
Hours later, Anakin’s leg was healed and he was laid in a cot to wake slowly. Obi-Wan meant to stay up and wait for him, holding his hand as he sat by his bedside, but the draining morning caught up to him slowly, and soon he found himself asleep.
He was woken by overwhelming grief - even greater than before - and the sound of muffled sobs.
“Shhh,” he said, half asleep, even as he crawled onto the cot to hold his Padawan close once more. “I’m here.”
Anakin just sobbed all the more, shoving his fist into his mouth in an attempt to stifle the great gasping breaths. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan murmured, kissing his hair as he pressed confused comfort down their bond.
“It’s not!” Anakin turned and curled up, shoving his face into Obi-Wan’s tunic. “I got you killed!”
Obi-Wan’s heart broke. “Oh, Anakin. It’s alright. It was just a nightmare. We’ll make sure never to use that sedative again if it has this effect on you.”
“You don’t even know,” Anakin gasped. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m so sorry. I forgot. I shouldn’t have, but I forgot, and I’m so sorry.”
Gently, Obi-Wan rocked his Padawan side to side. “It’s alright, dear one. What did you forget?”
“I forgot you have Masters, too,” Anakin bawled. “I should’ve just let you put me to sleep in the beginning, then they wouldn’t have killed you, too. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was stupid and showing off, I’m so sorry. You’re the best Master I’ve ever had, like something out of a fairy tale, and I forgot and I got you killed.”
Obi-Wan froze. “Anakin,” he said, pulling away with a last kiss to the boy’s forehead. “What does being put to sleep mean to you?”
Anakin rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, small body trembling and flinching as sobs turned to hiccups. “It’s the cleanest way to get rid of a slave,” he said, matter-of-fact.
For the second time that day, Obi-Wan’s heart broke. “No, dear one, no. We simply needed you to be unconscious while we put you in the bacta to heal up your broken leg. And now you’ve woken up and you’re all better. Look.” He gently peeled away the sheet and Anakin stared in disbelief at his whole and straight leg.
“You used bacta for me?” Anakin asked, sounding smaller than ever before.
“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “You were hurt.”
That love swelled again, and Obi-Wan took a moment to bask in it before turning to more serious matters.
“Anakin,” he said, then paused, trying to piece together his thoughts. “The Council doesn’t own me,” he finally said. “They’re allowed to tell me what to do because they have lived longer and experienced so much more, but they aren’t allowed to hurt me - or you. There are many, many laws against it. And I don’t own you, either. I teach you and guide you in the ways of the Force, like - like a father or a big brother. But I don’t own you.”
“But -” Anakin sniffed and bit his lip.
Obi-Wan ran a comforting hand through his hair. “It’s okay. You can tell me. I won’t be angry - not at you.”
Anakin nodded stiffly. “But Master Qui-Gon won me in a bet, and then he tried to auction me off to the Council, but then he died and you got all his stuff, like his plants and stuff. I thought that included me, too.”
Obi-Wan tried to quash his rage at that, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I am,” he said, “very angry at Qui-Gon right now.” He took a few deep breaths before he managed to speak again. “You were a slave? He only told me you were a local boy.”
“Yeah,” Anakin said. “I still am - if you ask the Hutts, I guess.” His face crumpled. “We had to leave mom there and I know I’m not supposed to be afraid, but I miss her so much and what if Watto sells her or bets her again or decides she’s more profitable in a brothel or-” He broke off into hysterical sobs.
Obi-Wan gathered him up into his arms and rocked him again. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be afraid. You just can’t be stupid about it. You have to think about the consequences before acting on your fear - how it would affect everyone around you. But you’re still a child, that’s why you have a teacher.” He breathed out through his mouth, slowly. “Your mother’s still a slave?”
Anakin nodded.
“Alright,” Obi-Wan said, cradling him close. “Alright. I,” he said carefully, “am going to go yell at the Council for being such utter pricks to you, and then we are going to go to Tatooine and free your mother. Does that sound like a plan to you, dear one?”
“We can free her?” Anakin asked, sounding bewildered. “It’s allowed?”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pushed down another wave of utter rage. “Still angry at Qui-Gon, not at you,” he said. “Because, yes, it’s allowed, and he should’ve done it when he first met you. Are you alright to stay in the healing halls while I yell at the Council?”
Anakin clutched at his teacher’s robes, even as he nodded. “I can be brave,” he said.
Obi-Wan hummed and hefted him up onto his hip, not quite ready to let go just yet. “You are brave,” he agreed. “But you don’t have to be. Do you want to come with me instead?”
Anakin nodded, laying his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
Obi-Wan cradled the back of his head against him and strode for the door. A thought occurred to him as he walked. “I’m honored that you would die for me,” he said quietly, “and I hope you know I would die for you, too. But let’s avoid that, if we can. I don’t want you to die or to be hurt. Okay?”
Anakin nodded and curled even closer. “Okay,” he agreed. "I promise to try."
"I promise, too - to protect you and to not die if I can help it," Obi-Wan murmured, kissing his forehead again. This boy…. This stubborn, honest, compassionate boy…. He knew with certainty he would tear down the galaxy for this boy if only he asked.