Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I hate you!!!"

"You were my brother, Anakin!! I loved you..."

He turns, forcing through the agony in the Force and their ripped Bond to move one aching foot before the other, leave this hell—

"Master, please."

Comes the tortured plea, no longer hate filled but despairing, and he flings the sabers to the ground, whirling back to the broken, collapsed figure on the bank.

He drags Anakin away from the fire, his arms tight about his lost beloved, and terrified relief appears on their faces.

 The Dark is suddenly held at bay by the blinding Light of unconditional love.

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It takes longer than he'd hoped to carry his Padawan's mutilated body— you did this, you ruined him— to Padmé's ship, and longer than that to retrieve the Senator's unconscious form.

As his foot hits the ramp, a shadow passes overhead, followed by an evil void in the Force.

Palpatine— Sidious— is here.

Obi-Wan owes it to all his fallen family, to his broken brother Anakin and his own, just beginning family, to face the Dark and— hopefully— show that the Light will win, and so he lays Padmé down and re-exits the ship once more.

Alone.

Jedi versus Sith.

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Obi-Wan swings at Sidious, the warm azure of his saber and the cold crimson of his opponent's blade colliding with a sharp contrast and a shower of sparks.

"You took what is rightfully mine!"

Sidious spits, and Obi-Wan reaches for his calm, for the last bit of strength within himself—

He reaches for Anakin, and the wounded young man responds.

In the Light, Anakin's strength pushes Obi-Wan, forces Sidious to cave—

A blue saber piercing his heart just as ghostly fingers somehow encircle the Jedi's heart with deadly pressure.

Hilts fall from nerveless fingers, both men collapsing to the ground.

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The Dark in the Force suddenly shrieks and fades away into nothing, and Anakin relaxes, the twisted strands releasing his mind. Immediately after, the Force screams with new loss— Obi-Wan's presence in his mind flickers and dies.

Within the ship, Anakin wails, the loss of so many of his anchors tormenting his already wounded mind, and Padmé wakes slowly, pain on her face.

Their eyes meet.

She knows instantly of their loss, and tears stream from her dark eyes. Anakin trembles with sorrow, and she shifts her pregnant body to carefully embrace him.

Disregarding their rift, they mourn Obi-Wan together.

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“Obi-Wan.”

His eyes open. It’s an endless expanse of nothingness, studded with glittering stars. The voice is infinitely familiar, and everywhere at once.

“You’ve lost much, my Padawan.”

He gasps, whirling around. Qui-Gon stands before him, whole and—

Not alive, but not dead.

“How..?” He whispers.

“Why— No! Anakin—!”

“Grieving his loss.” Qui-Gon answers softly. Obi-Wan stiffens.

“How can he bear it?!” His voice rises and cracks.

“I should be there—“

“And you will be. But first, I had to speak to you. Obi-Wan,”

He pauses.

“If you could have one of anything you’ve ever wanted, what would it be?”

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Anakin sobs into Padmé’s shoulder, his mechanical arm clutching her close.

“I took everything from him— everything because of a stupid dream Palpatine planted— and even then he loved me, tried to save me— and now he’s dead!”

Padmé strokes his sweaty hair, her own tears streaking her cheeks.

“Oh, Ani..” Her voice, rough and hoarse, catches on a sob.

“He always loved you. He knew you loved him too—“

She cannot go on, and they both suffer in each other’s arms until—

“Oh. Oh.” She says suddenly. Anakin looks up, swollen— blue, thankfully— eyes terrified.

“Angel?!”

“My water broke.”

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“What?”

Green-blue eyes stare at Qui-Gon, who folds his arms in his robes.

“What would you choose? Anything, absolutely anything.”

Obi-Wan’s lips part, and sudden thoughts come unbidden to his mind.

Qui-Gon himself— alive, to teach and guide once more... The Jedi, his family, alive and well; The clones— Cody’s— chips, found and demolished...

Satine, bright eyed and beautiful, stomach round with their child—

Anakin, free of slavery and his burden given by the Jedi—

Anakin, happy with his wife and children—

Anakin, happy.

Anakin, whole.

Obi-Wan smiles. The Force ripples happily, and Qui-Gon beams at him.

“I’m so proud.”

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Silent shudders wrack their bodies. The sobs have subsided, leaving the couple in terrified silence.

Padmé clutches her stomach, rocking back and forth, trying to calm herself and her children— hoping to stop the inevitable.

Anakin opens his mouth to reassure her, say something to mend the rift he’s caused—

And he stiffens in surprise. The Force converges around him, enclosing him from Padmé’s wide-eyed gaze in a whirling vortex of Light.

Within himself, he can feel the Force pulsing, and with a huge burst of energy it seems to explode.

Padmé stares in shock, her children almost forgotten.

“A-Anakin..?”

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Somewhere on a nameless planet, Ahsoka uncurls from her prone position in the dirt, face sweaty and tear stained by the agony of the Force tearing itself to pieces over the past hours.

Darkness had surged, then a blinding Light surrounded and drowned it— then vanished, closely followed by a literal sun-bomb in the Force.

She knows without a shadow of doubt that Anakin and Obi-Wan are at the center of this, and she forces her shocked body into her ship, following the Force’s nudge into hyperspace towards Mustafar.

“Force,” She prays.

“Please let them both be in one piece.”

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Anakin stands on newly restored legs, his flesh arm clutching Padmé’s hand tightly. Shock is on both their faces, and Padmé breathes through the first of many contractions.

“Ani..” She says softly, awe on her face.

“Look!” She traces where his arm had been severed by Obi-Wan’s blade— the limb is whole, but in the exact spot is a shimmering silver scar.

Anakin’s own fingers run over the slightly raised skin, tears in his eyes.

“I can feel— it’s on my legs, too.” He whispers, squeezing her hand through another light contraction.

“I don’t know how, but... He healed me.”

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Slowly, Anakin makes his way outside, into the ash filled, hot air of Mustafar. The broken building from earlier is across from Padmé’s ship, and between them—

His breath catches in his throat, tears welling up in sky-blue eyes.

Sidious’ dark-clad form lies crumpled on the ground, a saber wound through his heart, and beside it—

Beside it is a nightmare.

Obi-Wan lies, unmoving, face pale and muscles slack. There’s no outward sign of injury, only a lingering Darkness about his heart, and Anakin stumbles beside his best friend’s body.

He falls to his knees, grasps Obi-Wan’s hand, and sobs.

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Ahsoka re-enters realspace, her eyes drawn to the angry, red planet as she enters the atmosphere. The Force is cloudy with horror and anguish, a deep grief pulsing through the very air, and it brings tears to her eyes.

She angles her ship to land smoothly beside the other fighters— one she recognizes as Senator Amidala’s?!— and jumps out of the cockpit, hurrying towards the figures she sees huddled on the ground.

As they come closer, she halts, her own shock and grief piercing the Force, as she gazes at her Master, sobbing and clutching a limp, unresponsive Obi-Wan’s hand.

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Ahsoka’s grief and the labor pains Padmé is unconsciously broadcasting make Anakin’s— newly reLightened— mind spin, the agony of his brother-mentor... His Obi-Wan’s loss crippling him.

He waves Ahsoka’s trembling body into the back of the ship to help his wife, and he gathers the beloved body into his arms, carrying Obi-Wan to the spare cabin.

He’s reluctant to place him down and instead sits at the edge of the bed, rocking his lost Master gently and numbly memorizing the peaceful features.

His hand rests on Obi-Wan’s neck, gently caressing the soft, pale skin—

And then, excruciatingly faintly, a pulse.

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Abandoning both Ahsoka’s ship and Anakin’s own starfighter, the mismatched group sets coordinates for Polis Massa, where Padmé assures Anakin— through tiny grunts and moans of pain— that Bail Organa and Yoda are waiting.

Obi-Wan is still unconscious, hooked up to life support, and when Anakin moves to take his wife’s hand she snatches it away.

“Don’t think for a moment that this is okay now,” She says through gritted teeth, and Ahsoka stares in surprise.

Anakin visibly struggles against arguing, then deflates, and Ahsoka watches— struck dumb— as he nods, sitting in silence for the rest of the trip.

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The droids on Polis Massa take Padmé into their care, helping her deliver two healthy, exquisite infants.

Anakin hovers in the door as she gasps through her pain, ignoring the piercing stares from Yoda and Bail.

Ahsoka stands beside the bed, holding Padmé’s hand and telling her to “Push, Milady, it’s just one more—“ and Anakin almost breaks down when he hears his daughter cry.

He lingers, pressing a kiss to Padmé’s sweaty brow and gazing in awe at his children, then his guilty eyes lift to his wife’s.

Padmé smiles tiredly. “Go, Ani. He needs you more than I.”

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Silence but for the steady beeping of the heart machine, and the gentle wheeze of a respirator.

Obi-Wan looks pale and small and fragile in this hospital bed, his auburn-gold hair the only spot of color. He’s dressed in soft sleep-pants, chest bare, huge and dark amounts of bruising around his heart.

Anakin reaches a trembling hand to the drawn cheek, fingers running along the soft, delicate skin in an almost-forbidden caress.

“You healed me,” He says in wonder, tears streaming in rivulets down his cheeks.

“And I ruined you.”

He swallows hard.

“I’m so sorry. Obi-Wan, please wake up.”

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Three days pass. Padmé and Ahsoka coo happily over Leia as she’s fed, contentment drifting thorough the Force.

Anakin cradles little Luke close to his chest, gazing in awe into identical sky-blue eyes.

Such innocence. Peace. Like the younglings, before he—

The atmosphere stifles him, and he stands.

The giggling from the bed suddenly becomes too much, and with a half-smile and nod he ducks out of the room, carrying the precious burden towards the other occupied room.

It’s cool and dark and soothing here, and he takes a slow breath before carefully tucking his tiny son into Obi-Wan’s side.

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Luke’s happiness echos in the Force.

Anakin sighs.

Obi-Wan would be ecstatic, he knows— he’d adore the twins. They’d be his little stars, and Anakin is sure he’d find Obi-Wan walking around the terrace, singing to one or both of them as they slept in his arms...

If only Obi-Wan wasn’t laying so still, pale on the bed.

A dry sob makes its way up his throat and he presses his forehead to the barely-moving chest, counting the heartbeats to calm himself.

He’s almost succeeded, when Luke lets out a joyful laugh—

And a light pressure runs over his hair.

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Green-blue eyes crack open and lock onto azure, hand feather-light on Anakin’s hair.

“Blue.”

Obi-Wan’s voice is hoarse and soft as he gazes at him, drained and exhausted, huge amounts of relief in his eyes now welling with tears.

Anakin cries out in surprise, flinging his arms around the weak, smaller man’s body and hugging him for all he’s worth, and Obi-Wan leans into his embrace with a shuddering sigh.

Luke gurgles.

Obi-Wan’s eyes snap open, drawn to the crook of his arm—

He stares in wonder, entranced.

And suppresses a cry of joy.

The Force sings in pure ecstasy.

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Anakin’s overwhelming joy at Obi-Wan’s awakening is felt even by the non-Sensitives nearby, and soon Padmé and Ahsoka have brought little Leia to visit.

Obi-Wan gazes tearfully at the living and whole family before him— his family, he knows, he cannot force the long-hidden knowledge away any longer— and his eyes are once more drawn to infant Luke, now tucked in his arms.

Ahsoka is obviously wary, he notices, and wondering what exactly happened on that Force-cursed planet...

But as soon as his thoughts turn dark, Luke and Anakin both take his attention, and his exquisite joy bubbles over tenfold.

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Anakin’s pure ecstasy at seeing his beloved Master— alive and well, if a bit drained from... whatever he did— is tempered only slightly by the knowledge that he had put him there.

Obi-Wan gives him that look, the Anakin-we-will-be-talking-later-on-in-private-no-excuses one from his apprenticeship, and Anakin can’t help the tears that burn at his eyes.

Obi-Wan seems thoroughly smitten with his children, and Anakin can see a faint Force bond between him and Luke already... And the unhindered love in Obi-Wan’s eyes soothes him in a way he hasn’t been since before the war.

He sits back, happily watching his family.

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“Anakin!”

He turns. Obi-Wan’s calling him softly from the bed, and within seconds he’s dropped to his knees, taking a frail hand in his own.

The Master gazes at him with strangely open, emotional eyes, his side of their frayed Bond reaching hesitantly to connect with Anakin’s.

“You’re Anakin.”

It isn’t a question.

Anakin licks his lips, nodding.

“You’re Light?”

Bright, pleading eyes filled with unshed tears blink up at him, and Anakin’s throat closes. He nods, unable to speak, and the joy in Obi-Wan’s eyes, the joy he can feel, has him hating himself for his Fall even more.

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Padmé and Ahsoka comm Bail later, his harried visage blurry over holocam.

“You’ve recovered.”

He says in relief. Padmé nods.

“Wonderful. Will we have you back soon?”

The longing to rebuild what she’d help tear down has Padmé nodding fervently.

“As soon as possible. How is it?”

He sighs.

“There’s... chaos. I’m acting Chancellor, so it’s dying down, but the first days..”

He shakes his head.

“The clones are being housed, cared for— there was an unanimous vote for the chip removal— and we’re hoping to see Jedi coming home soon.”

Ahsoka swallows, hard.

“Are there any to go home?”

Chapter Text

After the joyous awakening and reunion, Obi-Wan has shut himself away from the group.

Desperate for peace and answers, he scours the Force, but its tattered shreds still scream, open and burning wounds battering his Presence.

Anakin’s head appears around the door.

“Hey, Master. Want to spar?”

The words are hesitant, and met with a snarl.

“No!” Obi-Wan hisses, a sudden, broken fury in his eyes.

Anakin flinches, then his eyes harden.

“Why not?”

“Forgive me if I currently can’t stand the sight of you.” Obi-Wan spits acidly.

Anakin can feel a storm in the Force—

And Obi-Wan finally snaps.

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Obi-Wan’s face is torn in utter anguish, his love for Anakin fighting his abhorrence of his actions, and Anakin himself stands silently, hoping that letting the torrent of Obi-Wan’s feelings pass will help them start anew.

“Your trust was always in Palpatine, never me! And he led you to the destruction of everything we’ve worked for— the destruction of my entire life—“

Obi-Wan’s voice cracks, hands flying to his head at the pain there, and Anakin steps forward—

The Force sings a warning note and Obi-Wan crumples to the floor, entirely broken.

Lost in the never-ending nightmare of the past.

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Tentatively, Anakin reaches for his sobbing Master—

Obi-Wan flinches, a high, keening noise of agony tearing from his throat. Anakin reaches desperately into their Bond...

He reels back in shock.

Inside Obi-Wan’s head is a maelstrom of the nightmare his life has become, the pain in the Force bringing all torturous memories to the forefront of his mind.

Horrified, Anakin shouts for help, hearing Ahsoka run through the halls on her way, and he sinks to the floor to gather the broken man— broken by his actions, only his, always his— into his arms.

“Look what I’ve done to you..”

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Their tears mingle together, guilt and sorrow and love streaking down their cheeks. Obi-Wan’s never let himself go before, and this collapse is full of at least thirty-years’-worth of emotion.

Anakin clutches him close, cradling his Master like a child in his arms and waiting the storm out, and Obi-Wan buries his face in his neck.

Ahsoka stands anxiously by the door, and not a word is spoken until Obi-Wan has cried himself to sleep, lying limply in Anakin’s arms.

She steps closer.

“Who broke him?!” She asks in a horrified whisper, and Anakin’s eyes darken in shame.

“I did.”

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The story is filled with tears and culminates with Ahsoka giving Anakin a thoroughly-deserved black eye. Obi-Wan has been passed out for the exchange, nestled into Anakin’s cloak, and Padmé has wisely kept herself and the twins in their own room.

Ahsoka is beginning to renounce Anakin completely, something akin to hate in her eyes, when—

“Ahsoka.”

Obi-Wan pads softly, timidly to her, arms outstretched, and draped in Anakin’s cloak. She falls into him with a sob.

“Sidious was controlling him, Ahsoka. Much like the clones were controlled, only through a twisted Bond.”

She and Anakin stare in anguished comprehension.

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The shocking revelation sends Ahsoka running to Padmé who welcomes her with open arms, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan alone.

Anakin falls to his knees, pressing his forehead to Obi-Wan’s foot, and the Master stares in surprise.

“Y-you healed me,” He chokes, Obi-Wan’s grip on his tunic tightening.

“After everything— Force, Obi-Wan, I don’t deserve it. How can you look at me?”

Obi-Wan kneels slowly before him, cupping his neck and pulling Anakin into his chest.

“Love, Anakin.” He says quietly. “I’m sorry I never listened, that I broke and said such awful things.”

Anakin burrows closer.

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan manipulates Sidious’ Bond into nothing and their Bond is rekindled, Obi-Wan’s love and forgiveness bathing Anakin in a soft warmth, and the former Knight feels only a small amount of shame as his Master pushes away the Darkness.

They understand each other, possibly better than ever before, and Obi-Wan knows he’ll open up emotionally now, just as Anakin will help him keep balanced.

They have so much to say to each other still, but for now their feelings will soothe their other half just as well, and so they can relax—

And they can try to forget the fire.

Chapter Text

“Padmé?”

She looks up at the doorway from the twins and her mountainous paperwork.

“Bail!!”

He smiles wearily.

“I bring news— Palpatine had the Temple security footage destroyed somehow. The only ones who know Skywalker did... what he did are either dead, or wish to keep it as quiet as possible.”

She smiles in relief.

“That may be just as well. We’ve come to realize that he was bonded to Sidious, and the Bond controlled his actions...”

Bail leans forward with interest. “So he technically has little-to-no blame?”

Padmé’s chocolate eyes beaming joyfully at him is enough of an answer.

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The Jedi return to a battered, empty home— Yoda first among them.

Obi-Wan and Anakin greet them in the Temple courtyard, Yoda peering cautiously up into the blond’s eyes. Volunteer— Alderaanian— workers patch blaster holes down the hall, others escorting Knights to rebuilt dormitories.

“Hmm.”

A tense pause.

“Rethink, we should, on some teaching of the Jedi. Walk with me, you will, young Skywalker.”

The Grandmaster nods to himself, shuffling into his home without a backwards glance.

Anakin hesitates and shares a baffled look with his brother, who gestures him forward with a smile of relief.

Not forgotten — but forgiven.

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Months pass.

Their numbers are few— fewer than she’d thought possible. Yet, somehow the Order is rebuilding— a feat Ashoka is grateful for. She’d thrown herself into the work, rehoming those that continued to arrive and clearing debris from the wide corridors.

She’d never asked for more details on the Fall.

Sometimes it was better not to know.

She’d look to the Future— at the twins, crawling after an indulgent Master Yoda, who kept prodding her to officially take up the mantle of the Jedi once more.

Perhaps— one day.

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The Galaxy moved on.

The Republic healed, the Senate led by now-Chancellor Organa— a refreshing change of pace in office.

Under Yoda’s guidance and with Anakin’s unique perspective the Jedi mandates were refurbished, Jedi relearning their old Code: Emotion, yet peace.

The twins didn’t join the fledgling Crèche— Padmé, strong-willed in the Senate, was even more so as a mother. Leia did, however, follow her father on his daily work through the Temple— and Luke could often be found curled up beside Obi-Wan in the newly built Archives.

And Obi-Wan—

Opened an old commlink, praying for a response.

“… Satine? ”

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They will be told of the Rise of the Sith, the Fall of the Galaxy, and the Rebirth of the New Order.

The CrècheMaster and Archivist sit together, weaving stories to enthrall all Jedi who come to listen. They speak of the Chosen One, of trial and error, tears, torment, hope, and forgiveness— a history never to be forgotten. Of the Negotiator— now, GrandMaster and Mandalorian Prince Consort, and of the heroics of those brave Senators led by a once Queen.

Younglings gasp.

“Another, Masters!”

Knights whisper. Masters heave weighted sighs.

Luke and Leia smile, beginning yet another tale.

“ A long time ago, in a Galaxy not so far away —“

Fin.