Chapter Text
Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. For some absurd reason, he was lying on the floor, and his clothes were dirty and smelled of smoke. His head was pounding and his eyes kriffing burned. He winced as he sat up and touched his forehead, feeling the sticky dried blood. What the hell had he done last night?
He shut his eyes against the rudely intruding sunlight and scowled, searching his mind for the events of the previous day. Right. Class. The bar. Drugs. Podracing. He smiled slightly, remembering the thrill of the race, then immediately grimaced as his head throbbed. He groaned and dragged himself to his feet, glancing at the chrono. Crap. He was going to be late to his first class of the day. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face, then winced, realizing the left side was unusually tender. He stripped down to his boxers, dumping all of his clothes into the hamper and went into the fresher, staring into the mirror as he gripped the edge of the sink.
Holy. Shit.
The left side of his face was reddish purple and swollen. Had he fought someone? He closed his eyes, thinking back. Shit. Obi-Wan. He'd hit him last night. He swallowed hard as the realization hit him. Obi-Wan had hit him. He'd definitely deserved it and some, but - still. Obi-Wan had hit him. He grabbed the bottle of painkillers from the cabinet and swallowed a handful dry, not bothering to count how many he took. He was in so much trouble. Obi-Wan was going to kill him. He'd pushed probably the most patient person in the galaxy to hitting him. His comm alarm chirped, announcing his second class was starting in thirty minutes. Kriff.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had not slept. He'd spent the night furious and trying to meditate - perhaps for the first time since Qui-Gon's death - had failed to help him. He was furious with himself for losing his composure, furious with Anakin for acting out, and furious with the other Jedi for not being able to help him. He didn't know what to do, and the problem was only getting worse. Anakin probably hated him now. Heck, he wouldn't be surprised if the boy asked to be transferred to someone else's tutelage. Clearly, he was an unfit teacher for the boy.
He sighed, rubbing his eyes, and brewed a cup of caf. Anakin was supposed to have been gone for his classes twenty minutes ago, but he had more pressing issues right now.
The fresher door hissed open and Anakin stepped out, clearly exhausted. His eyes were red-rimmed and the dark circles beneath them stood out starkly against his pale face. There was a good-sized bruise on his left cheek where Obi-Wan had slapped him, and there was an ugly gash on his forehead from wherever he'd been the previous night. "Anakin."
The boy glanced up at him, but notably didn't make eye contact. Obi-Wan sighed. "Sit, young one." The boy obeyed, still avoiding eye contact. Obi-Wan gently brushed his thumb against the bruised flesh, noting the slight wince it elicited from the boy. "Let's get you some bacta for that." Anakin didn't react, so Obi-Wan took that as permission, retrieving the small bottle from the fresher and gently applying it to the skin.
"What happened last night, Anakin?"
The boy swallowed hard. "I - I'm sure my teacher already talked to you," he said quietly.
"I'm not asking about her. I want to hear your side of things, padawan."
Anakin bit his lower lip. "Why?"
The young knight frowned. "Because, Anakin - because - because you matter."
Anakin glanced up at him quickly, then immediately dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry. I just - I'll do better."
"I want to know what happened, Anakin." He made sure to keep his tone gentle but firm, hoping Anakin would understand he wasn't trying to attack him.
"I - she was goading me. At least - it seemed like that. I tried to focus. I really did, but she just kept pushing, and I tried to control it, but I feel so much, and it just explodes without me wanting it to. I - I snapped. So I left. She's probably going to kick me out anyway. I just - they were all staring, and she was just waiting for me to fail, and I'm never going to be able to get it anyway, so why even try?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "And then? After you left?"
"I - I started wandering. Just to clear my head, y'know? And then I met some people, and I just wanted to remind myself that I'm good at some things. I can fly. It's what I do. So I podraced. I'm good at it, and it's so - freeing. It's just me and pure instinct and adrenaline, and it's kriffing great."
"And the drugs? We talked about that, Anakin."
"I - I know." Anakin's tone now was almost pleading. "They help me, though. They temper all the bad stuff - the anger and guilt and hate and all the stuff Master Yoda says I shouldn't feel. They make it all go away."
Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin, there are better ways to deal with your emotions."
"I - I can't meditate, master. The force is too loud. I hear everything. Everyone's thoughts, everyone's emotions - everything. It's too much. It makes everything worse."
Obi-Wan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Nonetheless, Anakin, what you did last night was inexcusable. Your behavior was not only inappropriate, but also illegal and dangerous."
Anakin dropped his head again. "I - I'm sorry, master. I didn't mean to disrespect you. I - please forgive me."
Obi-Wan's heart sank. He recognized that tone. It was the tone Anakin used when he woke up from nightmares, forgetting where he was and that he wasn't a slave anymore, and pleading for Obi-Wan not to hurt him. That tone killed him every time the boy used it. "Anakin, I'm not here to hurt you," he said gently. "I just want what's best for you. I'm not your enemy, padawan."
Anakin didn't respond, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground and trembling ever so slightly.
"Anakin - "
"Are you gonna get rid of me?" the teenager's voice was small - broken. It was the sound of heartbroken resignation.
"Anakin - no, I - I would never just get rid of you. You're not an object to be discarded once things get difficult." The boy didn't respond, so Obi-Wan squatted in front of him, forcing eye contact. "You're not an object, Anakin."
"But - but I'm - broken. I - you could choose someone better. Someone you actually want by your side." Kriff, he could feel the boy's pain, hurt, shame, and guilt radiating through the force. "Everyone leaves eventually," he added quietly. "I - I'll be okay."
Holy crap, was this kid trying to break his heart? Obi-Wan held him close. "Anakin, I do want you, and I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I - I've been worried that after last night you'd want someone else to teach you."
Anakin frowned. "But - but I deserved that."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, padawan. It's not okay for me to put my hands on you just because you make me angry. That was inexcusable, and I apologize."
Anakin shook his head uncomprehendingly, but let it slide. "I - I guess I should probably get to class. I already missed the first two of the day."
Obi-Wan nodded, allowing him to leave.
Obi-Wan decided that it was time for some outside help. Since the Council couldn't help him with Anakin, maybe someone close to him could. As much as he hated it, he found himself outside Palpatine's office, reminding himself that this was for Anakin.
"Master Kenobi! It's a pleasure," the old man greeted warmly. "You seem troubled. Is something amiss?"
Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm afraid so. I - I understand you are close to Anakin. Has he - mentioned anything to you lately about anything notable?"
Palpatine frowned. "You're going to have to more specific, Master Kenobi. Anakin and I talk about a lot, you know."
Obi-Wan sat down, pushing down the crawling sensation that travelled up his spine as Palpatine said Anakin's name. "I - has anything been troubling him lately? He's been acting out recently, and I don't know how to help him or even what's going on. I was hoping you could provide some insight."
"Hmm . . . well, he did mention - no, I'm sure it's not important."
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Well, like I said," the chancellor replied carefully. "I'm sure he didn't mean it or anything, but he has been quite agitated with you recently."
"With me?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously. "Why?"
"Well, he was upset one evening about not having any friends among the Jedi, and he told me that you weren't exactly helping matters. He said he'd never get ahead because you were too young to even be a knight, let alone a teacher. He told me he felt that he only agreed to leave his mother because he thought that he was going to be trained by a Jedi master, not a stand-in."
"A stand-in? He - he used that word?" Obi-Wan asked, swallowing the hurt the chancellor's words were eliciting. Because it was true. He was underqualified. He was only knighted because Qui-Gon had wanted to take Anakin on, and then he'd died, leaving Obi-Wan with nothing but a promise to train the boy.
"I - yes, but again, it was only one time, and I'm sure he was just upset. Other than that, he's full of good things to say about you. He says you always follow the Jedi Code no matter what the cost, and you always try your hardest, even when you don't succeed."
"I - is that all? Just the one night he was upset?" Obi-Wan pressed, because while still reeling from the new knowledge that his padawan didn't even respect him as a knight, he was sure there was more bothering Anakin.
"Yes. Of course, he has gripes with the other Jedi, but children will be children, you know. I do tell him to be patient, and that the Jedi want only the best for him, but I'm sure you know that Anakin is far from a patient person."
Obi-Wan chuckled dryly. "I'm afraid so. He's quite the persona. I - what do you think he needs from me?"
Palpatine sighed. "Anakin is a complicated child, and in my experience, children with as dark a past as Anakin has had unfortunately have some degree of manipulation to them. I think you need to be vigilant against that. He's used to fending for himself and surviving at all costs, so sometimes, he may revert back to old habits - unintentionally, I'm sure, but manipulative nonetheless."
"I - I don't think Anakin is manipulative or ill-meaning, your excellency," Obi-Wan countered, because he'd seen firsthand the pain the boy carried.
"Isn't that the beauty of manipulation?" Palpatine challenged with a small smile. "He doesn't do it consciously, I assure you, but he does it. For example, he's used to abhorrent punishment for misbehaving, so he might highlight how much he's hurting and how hard he's trying so he can detract attention from his mistakes and failures and thereby avoid punishment. If, say, he fails a test because he didn't study, he might try to avoid your anger by saying he tried so hard but nobody likes him, so he couldn't form a study group and absorb the material properly. He'll offer a thousand apologies and promises to do better, but he doesn't follow through on any of them. Again, he doesn't do this maliciously, but rather as a defense mechanism."
"So - he makes excuses to avoid responsibility," Obi-Wan said slowly, because now he was recalling how often Anakin cringed, apologizing and promising to improve - making references to his excessive power or his inability to fit in or his out-of-control emotions- only to get high again or sneak out a few days or weeks later. Could the chancellor be right? Was Anakin just playing him for a fool? He stood up to leave. "Thank you, chancellor. You've been very - insightful."
Obi-Wan heard Anakin's gasp, felt the jolt of fear through the force before the walls slammed up, and sat up in bed, glancing at the chrono. 0100. He heard Anakin's door hiss open quietly, and got out of bed, opening his own door. The boy was staring out the window into the busy night of Coruscant, his back turned to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and Anakin whirled around, eyes wide. "Going somewhere, padawan?"
Anakin shook his head, dropping his gaze. "I - couldn't sleep. I was just - I don't know. Tryna get out of my head, y'know?"
And for the first time in their relationship, Obi-Wan questioned whether or not he should believe the boy. Had he actually just woken up from a nightmare or was he trying to sneak out? There was no way for him to know, and the doubt hung thick in the air like a poisonous gas, permeating the space between them.