Chapter Text
The biscuit is sweet on his tongue and it reminds him of the ones he ate in his youth. His youth itself, however, was not quite as sweet. Most of his life, for that matter, lacked the sweetness one might hope for oneself, but Obi-Wan is okay with that. He made his peace with a life of infinite sadness long ago and he is only grateful that now it seems his life has taken a turn for the better.
Across from him, Anakin tears into his own breakfast ravenously.
“Slow down,” Obi-Wan says. “Enjoy it.”
“Not your Padawan. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
Obi-Wan looks at him with disgust. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Anakin shoots him a glare and Obi-Wan just rolls his eyes.
Some things were never meant to change.
The sun shines through the windows, bathing the whole kitchen in the soft golden glow. The morning is a quiet one — relatively, that is. Pounding feet on tile floors echo from the twins running excitedly around the house. Obi-Wan doesn’t mind the children interrupting the quiet of the morning. Instead, he takes the moment to enjoy the company of his dearest friends.
Padmé hums to herself as she busies her hands with the dishes. Obi-Wan grabs his and Anakin’s empty plates and joins her side.
“Please, let me,” he says.
“You wash, I dry?” Padmé compromises.
“Sounds perfect.”
Perfect .
An odd word because of how rarely it has held relevance in Obi-Wan’s life. Nothing has ever been perfect in his life.
Don’t question it. Don’t pull on the thread .
He tries to ignore the thought, the feeling that gives him so much unease, but a seam, once frayed, is just all too easy to unravel.
The sound of thunder carries in from the distance, tearing him from his thoughts. With narrowed eyes, Obi-Wan glances back at the windows. The sun still beams through the glass panes.
“Something on your mind?” Padmé asks.
“No. It’s just strange,” Obi-Wan says, “it doesn’t look like rain.”
“Maybe it’s a sunshower?” Anakin suggests.
“Maybe,” Obi-Wan says, even as he gets the distinct feeling that it is not .
The dishes set in the drying rack begin to shake and rattle on their own.
“Ani, stop that,” Padmé says, exasperated.
Anakin gives her a concerned look. “It’s not me, I swear.”
Obi-Wan shuts off the water and stops what he is doing.
It’s not Anakin. Obi-Wan can sense he speaks the truth, but something else is wrong. He brushes up against their bond, but it’s wrong somehow. It is nothing like it was when they were Master and Padawan and it’s not like it was in the war. Days ago, Obi-Wan might have convinced himself it was the bond itself falling apart from their time spent away from each other, but that is not it at all, now is it?
The bond is manufactured from his hope, and when he sees it for what it is, it falls apart. There is no bond to nudge against, no warm welcome, no comfort or support or strength. It’s all gone now.
Obi-Wan can sense the illusion for what it is. His immunity to the simulation serum has strengthened, and with it, his memory.
The shaking continues.
“Are you doing that?” Anakin asks. “It’s not me. I swear.”
“I know it’s not you,” Obi-Wan says sadly. “I’m afraid it has started.”
Anakin gives him a quizzical look. “What has started?”
“The end.”
“Well, that’s ominous,” Anakin mutters. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Obi-Wan, what’s going on?” Padmé asks.
The expression Obi-Wan gives both of them is a pained one. He fumbles for the words. How can he explain to them that they are not who they think they are? That their children are not real? It was hard enough the first time with Anakin, but Obi-Wan thinks he may not be able to bear Padmé’s despair. Not again.
“What are you hiding?” Anakin asks.
The ground quakes and the chairs sitting at the kitchen table topple over. Pans resting on the countertops fall to the ground in thundering clatters and a crack ripples through the wall and slithers through the ceiling.
“I think we should get outside,” Obi-Wan says.
“Wait,” Padmé says. “We need to find Luke and Leia.”
“No. They aren’t here.”
“What does that even mean? They were just running around upstairs.” Anakin protests. “We’re not leaving without my children.”
“Anakin, listen to me,” Obi-Wan says as dust lands in his hair. “Your children aren’t here. They aren’t real. None of this is real. We need to get outside so we can make a plan.”
“None of this is… my children…”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “Remember. The simulations, Kamino, all of it.”
“Ani, what is he talking about?” Padmé asks.
Obi-Wan pulls Anakin out of the line of falling debris.
“ Remember, Anakin. If we die here, we wake in the real world, but we need to come up with a plan first,” Obi-Wan says desperately. “We need to go outside.”
Anakin nods subtly, too stunned and reeling to offer a counterargument.
“Come,” Obi-Wan says gently, “we need to get outside.”
Padmé nods and follows him and Anakin through the halls of the house. The thundering continues even if the pounding of children’s feet has stopped.
Obi-Wan races towards the terrace, dodging falling debris and leaping over rubble. The terrace, once beautiful, is now cracked and shattered.
“Careful,” Obi-Wan says as they navigate the broken edges and tiles. They race down the stairs to the soft grass below and run to the lake’s edge.
The water is no longer serene and still, but turbulent and choppy as though a tempest is upon them. It crashes against the shore instead of lapping against it gently and they are caught in the spray.
“What is happening?” Anakin asks.
“They’re destroying the facility,” Obi-Wan says. “And we’re stuck in this simulation.”
Remembrance rises in Anakin’s eyes. “What do we do?”
“I— I don’t know but—”
The thundering and shaking continue and it is so consuming, Obi-Wan almost does not see Padmé fall to the ground. There is almost a gracefulness to her fall — like a leaf turning over for the season, making way for something new.
“Padmé?”
A large step forward and Obi-Wan is at her side. He kneels beside her and graces his fingers on her pale neck. With rising fear, he realizes there is no pulse to greet him.
“Padmé?” Anakin asks breathlessly. Obi-Wan hadn’t even noticed him scramble over, but now he is here and his panic is palpable. “Padmé, what’s wrong?”
She gives no response, just as Obi-Wan knew she wouldn’t.
“Anakin…”
“No! No, don’t say anything, she is fine .”
One look and Obi-Wan knows she is not fine. Her dress pools around her body in waves of satin. Everything about her is beautiful, even in death.
Anakin kneels over her and buries his head in her stomach. His cries rip from his throat — the agony is real even if nothing else is. The ground shakes and the waters rage and Anakin weeps over the woman he has no choice but to love.
His shoulders tremble and Obi-Wan cannot help the comforting hand he rests on his back.
“Anakin… I’m sorry.”
Anakin looks up at Obi-Wan. “If you only die in the simulation, then maybe Padmé is alive out in the real world?” he asks, blue eyes wide and hopeful.
“Maybe,” Obi-Wan says slowly, though he has a bad feeling about it. “But what killed her? She just fell. And the facility is being destroyed. What if—”
“No,” Anakin says. “ No . She died in the simulation so she’s alive in real life, she has to be. That’s how it works!”
“I’m not sure this time.”
“No, you told me that’s how it works, you told me!”
“Anakin—”
“No! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to tell me that she’s dead when she’s alive in real life.”
Obi-Wan remains silent. There is nothing to say to a man in mourning. He knows this better than anyone.
So he lets him grieve, if only for a moment. It is a moment they do not have, but it is a moment Obi-Wan cannot bear to take away from him.
“Come, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “We need to get out of the simulation and then we need to escape the facility. We need a plan. We have to find another hanger with a ship or at least some tie-fighters. We’ll meet on—”
“We have to kill each other don’t we?” Anakin says.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, “I’m afraid we do.”
Obi-Wan stands up and extends a hand to Anakin. He accepts it and allows Obi-Wan to drag him to his feet. Obi-Wan drags him away from Padmé’s body.
The sand under their feet is hard and wet from the spray of the lake. The movement of the earth threatens to knock them from their feet, but they brace themselves against its quakes.
“Are you ready,” Obi-Wan says.
“No,” Anakin replies. “I’m scared, Obi-Wan.” He says this as if Obi-Wan doesn’t know that Anakin’s fear is what defined both his life and his death. “What if we do this and we don’t wake up? What if we just die?”
“We have to do this. If we are to escape, we must first die.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if—”
“I’m not.”
Anakin runs his shaking hands through his hair.
“This is crazy,” Anakin says. “This is insane .” His laugh comes out as hysterical. “I mean, look at us. We’re about to kill each other because we think we aren’t real and we think we’re stuck in this reality that isn’t really reality and—”
“This is the only way. You have to trust me.”
Anakin pauses and his lip wobbles just the slightest bit. Watery eyes meet Obi-Wan’s. “What if we wake up and Padmé is still dead?”
Obi-Wan struggles for the right words. “I fear that is what we will find.”
“No,” Anakin says. “I don’t want to wake up and find that. I don’t want to wake up and find her … I want to stay here. Everything is perfect here. Don’t you see it? Aren’t you happy here?”
“Of course I’m happy here. Of course I want to stay in a world where everything is perfect and happy, but Anakin, look around. It’s crumbling around us. We need to escape. I want— I need you to escape with me.”
Obi-Wan grabs the saber attached to his belt. “Please, Anakin.”
Anakin sniffs and shudders, but his hands travel to his own belt. He holds his saber in his hand, but it is like the material is burning him. With trembling breaths, he stretches out his arm and holds the hilt up to Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan does just the same.
“Together?” Anakin asks.
“Together,” Obi-Wan affirms. “On my count?”
Anakin nods.
“One.”
Obi-Wan tightens his grip on the saber. His hand is slick with sweat.
“Two.”
Anakin trembles before him. Tears pool in his eyes and run silently down his cheeks. All Obi-Wan wants to do is brush them away.
“Three.”
When Obi-Wan wakes, the pristine white walls are no more. They are cracked and broken — splitting at their seams. Dust kicks into the air and Obi-Wan coughs. The seizing coughs cause a lance of pain to strike through his side and he remembers the blaster wound. He glances down at it. It never fully cauterized and blood soaks the once-white medical tunic.
Panting, he tries to center his thoughts around anything but the pain.
Anakin .
“Obi-Wan!” Anakin yells, his voice somehow askance. Obi-Wan turns his head to face him and sees why. His examination table is tipped over.
Obi-Wan looks just past him and thanks the Force that Anakin is no longer in a position to see what he sees. Just past Anakin’s fallen examination table are the crushed remains of Padmé’s own. Only her face remains visible. Her brown hair is splayed around her and a single drop of blood drips down ivory skin from a gash on her forehead. Unseeing eyes stare back into Obi-Wan’s own.
Just another cruelty of this place: he is forced to relive that which he has already seen.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “Are you all right?’
“I’m fine. You?”
He swallows back the burning pain. “Fine. We need to get out of here.”
“Right. Have any ideas?”
“I don’t think I can convince another droid to let me go and I doubt Ahsoka is going to come bursting in again.”
Anakin strains his neck. Obi-Wan does the same to see what he’s looking at.
A scalpel lays on the ground just a hair's breadth away from Anakin’s fingertips.
“Do you think you can reach that?”
“I’m trying,” Anakin grunts. His back arches and his mouth curves in a tight grimace as he pulls against the restraints.
“Come on , Anakin.”
“I’ve almost got it, I’ve almost— ah!” Anakin cries out triumphantly. “I’ve got it!”
Obi-Wan lets out a sigh. “Good job, now just…”
“Obi-Wan?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course, I’m just…” Obi-Wan takes a shaky breath. “I think I’ve lost a bit of blood.”
“How much is ‘a bit’?”
Obi-Wan grits his teeth. “Just keep working at those restraints. We’ll worry about it after we get out of here.”
Anakin saws at the strap around his wrist. The work is painfully slow and his brows are furrowed in concentration. It is the same look the real Anakin would get when he was making updates to Artoo or fixing a broken-down hyperdrive. The determination behind his eyes gives Obi-Wan just enough hope to stay conscious.
“I’m almost there, Master,” Anakin says. “Just hang on.”
And he does. He hangs on to the sound of Anakin’s voice, the subtle sawing, and the reverberating sound of destruction.
“Aha!” Anakin exclaims again. With his wrist free, he works at undoing the straps around his other wrist and his torso, and then his legs. “I’m so close, just hold on.”
“I am,” Obi-Wan says, even as his vision blurs.
The last restraint comes undone and Anakin slides fully to the floor amongst the debris and dust. He scrambles to his feet, ready for action until his eyes rest on…
“Padmé!” He screams her name like it will bring her back. Obi-Wan knows from experience that it will not.
Obi-Wan forces himself to focus. “Anakin, don’t look at her. Look at me.”
“No,” he says. “She was supposed to be alive. This is real life, she is supposed to be alive .”
He scrambles over fallen beams and chunks of plaster. “Padmé,” he cries, a softer, more mournful cry than before. In vain, he attempts to push the debris off of her.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “She’s gone.”
“No.” He hunches over her and rests his forehead on hers. “Please,” he chokes.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says breathlessly. “I know that… but I… I can’t…” The faintness of his voice is enough to lasso Anakin back to attention.
“Master!” he cries. He whips around and his eyes fall on the blaster wound. “I need to stop the bleeding.”
“There… there isn’t time.” As if to punctuate his statement, the ground shakes and the table he is so mercilessly strapped to tips back and forth before Anakin steadies it.
“I’m making time,” Anakin says like he has the power to do so, but even the real Anakin never possessed such power. However, this Anakin possesses all the same determination, and so he works at the restraints, trying to undo them even while the world caves in around them.
The ground trembles and more dust falls into Obi-Wan’s eyes. The shaking jostles him and reverberates through his every vertebra. The wound in his side pulses with pain and he feels almost delirious with it. But he can’t afford that. He needs to stay sharp if he is to stay alive.
A part of him is starting to doubt that he will.
His vision grows blurrier.
“Maybe you should go,” Obi-Wan says. “I don’t think I’m—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No. I will not lose my children, my wife, and my Master all in one day. I will not.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t. Don’t say it.”
“All right, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. He knows he is beyond convincing.
“I’ve almost got it,” Anakin says. “Just hang in there, Obi-Wan.”
The first restraint loosens and is pulled away and the Force rushes back to him. He pulls on it to give him strength and support. It won’t last, but it is enough to sustain him until they make their escape.
At least, he hopes it is enough.
He begins undoing the other straps while Anakin scampers off to the other side of the room.
“Come on, come on, there has to be something,” Anakin mutters. He is fluttering around the room, tearing it apart more than it already has been.
“Anakin…”
“There!” Anakin scrambles back to him. Before Obi-Wan is even aware of what’s going on, Anakin has rolled up the blood-soaked medical tunic and is dabbing at the wound with gauze. Satisfied with his work, Anakin smears bacta all over the wound. A hiss escapes clenched teeth, but soon the numbing effect of the bacta takes hold and the pain turns into a dull throb.
His thoughts turn a little more clear, bolstered by the Force and the cooling gel on his burned and bleeding flesh. Air fills his lungs like it knows it is trying not to miss its chance to do so. He steadies his breathing and gives the clone a grateful look.
The table vibrates, but it is the quiver in the Force that drives him to raise his hand. His reaction is fast enough to stop the latest slew of falling debris from slamming into Anakin.
Gently, he lowers the debris to the ground with the Force and Anakin looks on with a longing look in his eyes.
There is no time to linger on it, however — not while the world breaks apart at its very seams.
With movements slow and ginger, Obi-Wan swings his legs over the table and lands on the ground. Wreckage and rubble cuts into his bare feet and his legs shake just as the ground does, but he keeps his footing.
“Let’s go,” he says.
Anakin does not need to be told twice. He follows dutifully.
They worry not about guards; they have all evacuated at this point. The only life forms left in the facility are Obi-Wan and Anakin.
“Come on,” Obi-Wan says. “We need to find a hangar or a landing platform.”
“There has to be a map of this place,” Anakin says. “Right?”
Obi-Wan debates the merits of stopping to find a map and just wandering aimlessly until they find a ship left behind by the Empire.
“You’re right,” he says. “Find a computer.” The ground shakes. “Hurry!”
They rush through the halls until they find a data screen. It’s easy enough to use — Kamino, despite its scientific advancements, has failed to make many updates to the computers since the time of the Republic. It only takes a little bit of searching to find a blueprint of the facility.
“There!” Anakin says, pointing to a hangar. “We need to go that way. It looks like we need to go through this room here, down this hallway, past the barracks and then we’ll make it to this hallway. The western hangar should be at its end.”
“What are these lines?” Obi-Wan asks, pointing at the last hallway to the hangar.
Anakin squints at them. “That hallway looks segmented. It’s probably just doors.”
“Hopefully they will be unlocked.”
“We can only hope,” Anakin says with a shrug.
“Do you think there will be any ships left over?”
“We can only hope,” Obi-Wan says. “Let’s go.”
Two pairs of bloody footprints stain the ground, but the Jedi and the clone keep running.
Screeching metal tears and creaks as the hallway they run down tears apart.
“This way!” Obi-Wan yells. He grabs Anakin’s arm and drags him into the old incubator room. It is empty now. The artificial wombs that once held the tiny embryos of men he fought with in battle are now cracked and shattered — void of all life.
“What is this?” Anakin asks, pausing.
“You already know,” Obi-Wan says, panting heavily.
Horror makes the slow climb to Anakin’s face, dawning upon him like the rising sun. “Do you think I was in one of these… these things ?”
“Most likely,” Obi-Wan says.
“Am I… Oh Force I’m not even—”
“You are a man. A sentient human being. You are important, Anakin.”
Reflections of blinking lights and glowing tubes appear in the dismayed gleam of Anakin’s eyes.
“Come on,” Obi-Wan says softly. “We’re running out of time.”
Anakin nods tightly and follows Obi-Wan down the long catwalk. Glass orbs fall and shatter down around them, cutting into their bare and bloodied feet even more.
Not that they can really feel it.
The adrenaline coursing through their veins makes them forget their mortal flesh in favor of saving it.
The long catwalk inside the incubator room comes to an end and they spill out into another hallway, just as white as all the others. They run and they run, the facility hallways seemingly lengthening as time only shortens.
Anakin runs just a few steps ahead of Obi-Wan. He turns back and comes to a halt.
“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan pants. “Don’t stop. Don’t wait for me, just go.”
“No, wait,” Anakin says.
Obi-Wan slows and comes to a stop. He notices it too.
“It’s quiet,” he says.
“Yeah. Too quiet. Do you think they stopped?”
Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Why would they stop? The facility has yet to be destroyed.”
“Maybe they think everything that needs to be destroyed is destroyed.”
“No. They are too smart for that. Too thorough.”
In the distance, a loud explosion pierces the unsettling silence.
Obi-Wan and Anakin look at each other.
“What was that?”
“Nothing good,” Obi-Wan says, just as the ground begins to vibrate. Harsh whines echo throughout the building as it shifts on weakening stilts.
“Run!”
They take off, but they do not get far before they are both knocked off their feet. The room turns sideways and they slide down the floor with all the other debris.
Desperate hands grasp for purchase, but nothing is stable anymore. Together, Obi-Wan and Anakin slip down, down, down until they crash into a pneumatic door. With the structural integrity compromised, the door gives way and Anakin and Obi-Wan tumble into a set of old barracks.
Obi-Wan holds out his hand and wills the Force to help him just a little bit more. With it, he closes the door and stops the debris from sliding in on them.
The building stops moving and for a moment, they are able to breathe.
And then Obi-Wan looks around.
“Oh… oh no, oh stars , how could…”
Anakin looks around and, from his sharp intake of breath, Obi-Wan knows that what he is seeing is not a cruel trick of his own tortured mind.
“Is that… are they…”
“Clones,” Obi-Wan finishes. “Clones of Anakin. Clones like you.”
“But they’re…”
“They must have killed them. Or they were killed by the debris,” Obi-Wan says. “Oh Force…”
He looks around at the bodies. About half a dozen children with golden hair lay scattered on the wall — stiff and lifeless with the cold touch of death.
One of them looks directly at Obi-Wan with an unseeing stare. He looks accusatory, and exactly like the boy Obi-Wan took in all those years ago. A carbon copy.
Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, stay…
His breath comes in sharp gasps at the sight.
“No…” he says. “ No .”
This is too much. Too cruel. Too sadistic to bear and yet the Force has placed him here: the makeshift tomb of his Padawan’s clones.
Anakin is all around him. Six copies of his former Padawan that all look just as he did, but without the spark of life.
Obi-Wan is clearly not the only one affected by the scene. Anakin scrambles over to him and grips his sleeve like it is a lifeline. “Get me out of here, Obi-Wan,” Anakin begs. There is a desperation there — a quiet plea from a child to a parent. “Get… Get me out of here!”
“All right,” Obi-Wan says softly. “It’s… it’s all right. We’ll get out of here. Just give me a second.”
“I can’t be here,” he says. “Get me out!”
“Breathe, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “Center yourself in the—” Anakin’s wide eyes stare at him, but they aren’t really Anakin’s “—center yourself, Anakin. We need to think clearly.”
He nods quickly, but then starts to look around him.
“No, don’t do that. Don’t look at them, look at me,” Obi-Wan says.
He assesses their options, limited as they are.
The door is too high and the wall too perpendicular for them to simply walk out of. Still, there is no other way out. Pulling on his very limited reserves of strength, Obi-Wan wills the damaged door open with the Force. It lets out a horrible shrieking sound as it creaks open, but flickering light from the hallway spills in. The light is not the only thing to spill in, however. Dust and plaster and metal scraps fall around them, clanging on the ground — or the wall — whatever it is they find themselves standing on.
Obi-Wan can make it. The jump, even in his state, is not a difficult one for a Jedi. However, a human might find it a little more difficult — or impossible.
Anakin takes a few steps back, and before Obi-Wan can stop him, he makes a running jump for the door.
He doesn’t get anywhere close. He slides back to the ground and lands on his injured feet with a yelp.
“Wait,” Obi-Wan says. “Let me.”
Obi-Wan summons the Force around him. It takes longer than he would like. He’s fading and fading fast, but he has to try. He must.
Once the energy provided by the Force coalesces and congeals, he pulls on it to propel himself upward and over the lip of the door. His landing is not a graceful one and it only aggravates the wound in his side, but he manages to keep steady.
Groaning, he presses his hand to his side in an attempt to quell the pain. It doesn’t do much, but there is not much else to do.
He peers down at Anakin who is now looking up at him with wide eyes.
“I’ll give you a boost, just… just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
“Obi-Wan?”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, of course, I just need…” He pulls the hand pressed to his side away and looks at the fresh coating of blood. “I just need a minute.”
“Okay,” Anakin says nervously. “Hurry.”
Always impatient .
With a few shaky breaths, he gathers the Force around him — albeit, even slower than before.
“All right, when I say jump, you jump,” Obi-Wan calls down. “Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.”
Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he himself is ready, but he centers himself anyway.
With hands splayed out, he calls, “jump!” down at Anakin. The clone obeys and takes a running leap as high up as he can. Just as before, it is not far enough, but this time, Obi-Wan has him. He locks onto him and pulls .
“Grab my hand!”
Anakin reaches and his fingertips only graze Obi-Wan’s. Some of the strength from the Force is lost with the distraction of reaching for Anakin, and the younger man begins falling back to the ground with wide eyes.
“Obi-Wan!” Anakin yelps.
Obi-Wan strengthens his hold on Anakin and he stops mid-fall. He lets out a breath of relief. There is no way he can do this again.
“Okay,” Obi-Wan pants. “Slowly now.”
With a little more focus, Obi-Wan manages to pull Anakin higher than before. He hardly notices the vice-like grip around his wrist until he hears his name.
“Obi-Wan!” Anakin yells. “Pull me up!”
His shoulders strain and his side stings with a sharp pain as he pulls Anakin over the lip of the door. Once far enough up, Anakin pulls himself up the remainder of the way. They lie on their backs side-by-side, both of them a collection of heavy breaths and bloodstains, but alive all the same.
The ground vibrates beneath them.
“We don’t have long. We have… we have to go.”
Anakin takes a closer look at him. “Master…”
Obi-Wan flinches at the title.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin amends. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look—”
“Don’t worry about it. “
“Now I’m worried about it.”
“Don’t. There is no point. We just need to focus on—” he moves to get up, his expression and voice straining “—we need to focus on getting out. Come on. We have to make it to the western hangar or we’ll never get off of this floating tomb.”
“I don’t think it floats,” Anakin adds. “I think it’s built on stilts.”
“Of all the details they had to program you with…”
Anakin smirks and gingerly climbs to his feet. He extends a hand. “Hey, it’s not my fault. It’s your memories so technically —”
Obi-Wan accepts Anakin’s hand and lets himself be pulled up.“Don’t you dare say this is my fault.”
Anakin raises his hands in surrender. “Ready?”
“Of course.”
They continue on, running through the hallway, leaping over doors leading into barracks, labs, and storage rooms. The twisted hallway gradually begins to untwist and they find themselves once more running on the ground and not the wall. Not that it makes too much difference. They still leap over debris and shrapnel.
The hallway ends and they make a turn into a new hallway. This one is periodically segmented by wide doors, just as they saw in the blueprint. Obi-Wan doesn’t believe in luck, but he feels awfully lucky when the doors unfurl as Anakin slams his hand on each opener button.
“We’re nearly there,” Anakin says through panting breaths. “Just a few more.”
His hand slams against a button and another door slides open.
Thundering explosions rock the building and they both collapse, landing hard on their stomachs. With the wind knocked out of him, Obi-Wan coughs. Blood splashes from his lips to the floor.
“Not good,” he murmurs.
“What?” Anakin asks.
“Nothing.” Obi-Wan wipes his lips and keeps his face turned away from Anakin.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Well I—”
“Now is not the time to argue with me,” Obi-Wan says sternly. He staggers to his feet and does the honor of slapping his hand on the next door’s opener.
Another segmented section awaits them. “How many more of these—” Anakin growls as he hits the next button. He rushes towards the door before it finishes unfurling. “Woah!” Anakin yells, his arms windmilling as he tries to hold his balance.
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan yells, lunging forward and grabbing him by the back of his medical tunic. He pulls him backward and into the segmented section of hallway. Salty sea air, cold and dark, blows into the small section they find themselves in.
Sea spray and rain mixes to soak their hair, their skin, their clothing. The ocean rages and swirls, indifferent to what it has just swallowed.
Labored breaths claw through two sets of equally devastated lungs as the two men stare out at the sinking remains of what could have been their escape.
“No,” Anakin says. “No! We were so close, we were—”
Obi-Wan wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to beseech the Force and ask why it has forsaken him.
He wants to ask it why it dared give him hope, when he should have known all along that none existed for him.
Instead, he simply whispers, “they destroyed it. Of course they destroyed it.”
The sea stretches below and beyond the gaping door. There is no more hallway. There is no more hangar. There is no more hope.
The ships, their salvation , sink deep into the murky ocean depths. Perhaps, over time, they will become home to coral and fish — a beautiful ecosystem full of life. Perhaps they will degrade and rust, any significance the ships had to sentient life lost underneath the weight of the sea. Either way, they will never fly again, and they will never bring the Jedi and the clone to freedom.
“I— I don’t understand,” Anakin says.
“They took out the western hangar,” he states simply. He knows Anakin can see it just as well as he can, but he knows he needs to hear it out loud. Perhaps Obi-Wan needs to hear it out loud too.
“What… what do we do now?” Anakin turns to him with searching eyes — the very ones that turned to him over and over and over again until they didn’t and it was too late.
Always too late.
“We—” he takes a shuddering breath “—we will try the eastern hangar.”
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says slowly. “Do you think it even exists anymore?”
He knows they will never make it to the eastern hangar, even if it hasn’t been destroyed.
But what else is there to do?
While Obi-Wan may accept his fate, he isn’t going to accept it without a decent fight. “I don’t know. But I’m willing to try,” he says simply.
Anakin’s eyes sharpen again, the hope returning even if Obi-Wan was mostly feigning it.
Mostly.
They turn back.
Obi-Wan’s steps are sluggish now. He can no longer run down the halls or leap over debris. It takes everything just to stay on his feet, but he keeps going.
Until he can’t.
The segmented hallway shudders and Obi-Wan staggers and lists to the side. He slides down the wall and leans against it on the ground.
“Obi-Wan?” Anakin rushes to his side and kneels down next to him.
Wet, bloody coughs break from Obi-Wan’s throat and he tries to focus his eyes on Anakin’s face.
“Hey,” Anakin says softly. “Let’s take a break.”
“You should go,” Obi-Wan says.
“No. We’ve come this far. Like hell I’m giving up on you now.”
“You should. You should try and escape while you still can.”
“Not without you, old man.”
The old nickname doesn’t hurt, and that’s how he knows time nears its end. He huffs out a laugh instead. “I was never able to get him to listen to me. Foolish to think you might be different.”
“Oh come on, I listen to you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Stop saying that,” Anakin says. “I know you more than anyone and right now we’re all we have left, please just… just stop saying that.”
“All right… Anakin…” His eyelids feel like heavy weights and he struggles to keep them open.
“Hey, stay awake. I need you awake.”
“I’m awake.”
“Well, forgive me if you don’t look very alert right now.”
Obi-Wan forces his eyelids open and looks back up at Anakin. His face is tightened with worry and the perpetual look of fear that has always lay dormant within him comes out in full.
“Please, just go,” Obi-Wan says, “while you still can. Just go.”
“Not a chance, Master.” The word rolls off his tongue so easily, it’s almost real.
Anakin pushes against Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “Come on, get up. We only have a few more segments left, then we’ll be back in the main facility.”
“We—”
Obi-Wan’s words are cut off — lost to the cacophony of explosions and the thunderous sounds of total destruction that surround them now. The pneumatic doors of their segment close and lock up on either side and the hall falls and falls — twisting and spinning as it does.
There is a weightlessness to the fall that almost feels good in Obi-Wan’s battered body, but as all things do, the fall comes to an end. The segment of hallway they occupy slams into the ocean and jostles the two battered bodies around inside it.
His head slams against the wall and his vision blurs. Everything settles and he blinks away the fuzzy edges.
“Anakin?” he asks weakly.
“I’m over here,” Anakin says.
Emergency lights remain on, showing just how doomed they both truly are.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m all right. You?”
“Fine.”
There is a great pause — a moment of silence in the air and a far away flicker of warning from the Force.
And then the water has its way.
It comes through the cracks — the ones invisible to human eyes, but the ocean sees all.
Anakin’s eyes flash with panic. Quickly, he ambles to the door and slams his hand against the button. It is unresponsive. He rushes to the other side and tries the same. He finds no salvation there either.
A guttural cry of frustration tears from deep within his chest as he punches the button.
“Anakin, stop.”
“Stop? What do you mean ‘stop’? We’re stuck here and you want me to stop ?”
“There’s no point. The doors are sealed, there is no way to open them anymore.”
“No. There’s always a way.”
Obi-Wan drags himself to his feet, but grasps at the wall as the whole segmented section of hallway tilts and rocks in the ocean.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. “What do we do?”
They are sinking further into the depths of the ocean and the water is rapidly shrinking their remaining space.
“I’ll… I’ll try.” Obi-Wan stretches his hands toward the door, willing it to open, just as he opened the other one with AZI. He reaches for the Force, hoping that this final time, it will answer him. He centers his mind, he loosens his body, he sharpens the energy within him, and even after he does all of that, it is not enough to pull it to him. He grazes against its warm edges — a touch only permitted to his fingertips but not his full grip.
Desperately he grasps for it, knowing all the while he cannot save himself, but if he can just do this , maybe, maybe Anakin will have a shot. It would be a slim shot, but difficult odds never stopped him before.
But the Force does not bend itself to desperate men.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says softly, lowering his hands. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do it.”
“No. No . You can do it, Obi-Wan, I’ve seen you before, you can—”
“I don’t have the strength left. I’m… I’m dying, Anakin.”
“ No. Neither of us is dying today, we’ve come too far.”
“Whether we escape this or not, I’m dying,” Obi-Wan says. “My fate is sealed here.”
Cold water curls around their bloodied feet and rises above their shins. The salt stings the open wounds.
“I refuse. You’re the one who always told me the future is in motion, you don’t get to say your fate is sealed.”
“I’m sorry, but it is.”
“Hypocrite!” Anakin yells. “Liar!”
“I’m not lying. I wasn’t lying when I said those things. Just… please…” Obi-Wan sways.
“Master?” Anakin’s voice is soft now. His ability to swing from extreme to extreme still astounds Obi-Wan. The whiplash of him always leaves him reeling, even now. Even at the end.
Even when it’s not real.
Anakin paces around, water splashing as he does so. His eyes sharpen.
“I can do it,” Anakin says with determination. “I know how. I know how to do it.”
“Knowledge and capability do not intersect in this instance, I’m afraid.”
“But I know how to do it. It’s in my head .”
“It won’t work, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “You know it won’t.”
Anakin stretches his hands toward the door and closes his eyes.
“Just let me try this!”
“Anakin!”
Anakin’s face twists in concentration that will lead him nowhere.
“Anakin, there is no point.”
Obi-Wan watches Anakin reach for the Force, knowing it will never reach back. He sighs and lets him try. Who is he to kill the final hope of a dying man?
The water climbs higher, freezing and unforgiving around their waists. Anakin snarls in frustration. He throws his hands down and they splash the rising water. His shoulders, tightened with rage and fear, loosen and sag down in defeat. Slowly he turns to Obi-Wan.
“I remember what it feels like,” he says. “I know what it feels like to feel the Force. They programmed that sense-memory into me. But it’s like… it’s like it’s gone.”
“You don’t know how he felt it,” Obi-Wan says softly. “You can’t. You only know how I feel it. It is my memories, not his, that guide your programming. I’m sorry you are burdened with that knowledge.”
The tomb they are trapped in sinks further and further down. The pressure of the ocean pressing around them builds in Obi-Wan’s ears.
“Whatever,” Anakin says, “there has to be another way.” He wades around, splashing his arms through the water like a mad man.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for something we can use to pry the door open.”
“There’s nothing in here,” Obi-Wan says softly. “It was just an empty hallway. We ended up in the one untouched section of the facility.”
“There has to be something.”
Anakin searches even longer until he is no longer wading through the water, but swimming. Obi-Wan begins treading water, even as his energy wanes further and further.
Consciousness is beginning to slip away from Obi-Wan. It’s better this way. He’d rather succumb to blood loss before he has to go through the experience of drowning. If he just drifts off to sleep then…
Metal banging sounds pull him back to himself. Anakin is punching the door again.
“Stop,” Obi-Wan murmurs.
Anakin stops his fist mid-punch and lowers it slowly back to his side.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin says.
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow in confusion. “What for?”
“I’m sorry I can’t save us. If I had the Force, I could…”
“Stop. None of this is your fault. You shouldn’t even be here. You wouldn’t be here if it were not for—”
“No. If it were not for you, I would have never existed and I… well if that didn’t happen then I would have never known you or Padmé, or my kids. It’s a beautiful life… I loved my life.”
Anakin kicks against the water, but there is little anger behind the motion. “Don’t give me that look, Obi-Wan.”
“I’m not giving you a look.”
“Yes you are,” Anakin glowers at him before averting his gaze. Quietly, he says, “I know it was just simulations. I know some of them were based on what you wanted and hoped for and I know some of them were based on your deepest fears, but Obi-Wan, I wouldn’t trade it. I don’t want anyone else’s life.”
“It’s not fair to you,” Obi-Wan whispers. He can barely hear his own voice over the sound of the water rushing in.
Anakin laughs. “When have you ever said ‘it’s not fair,’ huh? Come on now, Obi-Wan. That’s not you.”
Obi-Wan has one last smirk left in him. “I suppose you’re right.”
The water is getting higher. It won’t be long now. Obi-Wan sinks as deep into the Force as his last shred of energy will allow and he reaches.
And then he feels him.
Not Anakin. Not the clone of him either.
A darkness, so overwhelming it threatens to consume him just as it consumed the one the lost. He feels the dark terror and rage swirling like a vacuum inside of one tattered soul.
Obi-Wan gasps in pain, but that pain is not his own.
“What is it?” the clone asks.
“He’s here,” Obi-Wan says.
“Who’s here?”
“Vader. I can feel him. He… he did this. He knew I—” Obi-Wan swallows “— I guess he wanted to do it himself.” He presses against Vader’s Force presence.
Obi-Wan can see all of it now: a ship looming over its target, Vader standing unnaturally tall at the head of a bridge, giving the order, feeling no mercy. He senses his agony and his rage. The darkness is an all-consuming black hole and Vader is at its center.
Obi-Wan presses harder and only feels pain. Vader knows what he is doing. He knows who he is drowning and he feels no shame, for a drowned man cares not for those he drags asunder.
Once more, Obi-Wan presses against Vader’s dark consciousness searching desperately for a shred of what was lost. And there it is. A shred. A tiny thread of regret — a quiet cry under all the louder ones — but it’s there.
Regret isn’t going to stop the inevitable, however. It’s far too late for regret.
And Obi-Wan loves him still.
There’s good in him. I know. Still. I know.
Padme’s final words — words that repeated and circled in Obi-Wan’s mind for years and years prove themselves to be true.
It’s too late for Obi-Wan, but not for Luke. There’s still good in Anakin and Luke will be the one to stoke that flame until it burns brighter than the suns of his homeworld.
With a precious breath, Obi-Wan presses forgiveness into the Force. It won’t change anything, he knows that, but he needs the real Anakin to know that even after everything, he loves him — even throughout the most painful days, he never stopped loving him.
The water rises above the emergency lights and they flicker out, leaving them in total darkness.
“Obi-Wan?”
“Yes?”
A relieved sigh. “Good. I just wanted to make sure you’re still there.”
“I’m still here, Anakin.”
“Please stay that way. Stay with me, please.”
Obi-Wan’s heart clenches. “Of course I’ll stay with you. Until the end.”
“Until the end,” Anakin repeats.
Their heads almost touch the ceiling now.
“Look, Obi-Wan, I just want to say… I know I’m not really him, but I feel like I am.” A pause. “I’m glad to be Anakin Skywalker, even knowing what he became.”
Obi-Wan remains silent for just a little too long and he can sense Anakin’s fear.
“There’s a part of me that is horrified by you,” Obi-Wan says honestly. “I wanted to leave you behind. You’re just a reminder, a painful reminder, of everything terrible that has ever happened to everyone I’ve ever had the audacity to care for — especially him. Especially Anakin.” He swallows thickly. Tears swim in his eyes. “I know you’re not him. I know you’re just a man, but—”
“But I feel like I am him. I feel his darkness and his rage and his passion and his love and I… I love you, Obi-Wan. If I’m going to die, I’m glad it is at your side.”
“Your loyalty, your love… it was all programmed into you.”
“I don’t care. I know it wasn’t real, but it was real to me.”
Tears spill down Obi-Wan’s cheeks and mix into the salty water. He takes a shuddering breath from the air they do not have.
“I know, Anakin. It was real to me too.”
The water rises over their chins and they take desperate gulps of the remaining pocket of air. It’s fading fast and their time nears its bitter end.
With his last gasp of breath Obi-Wan tells Anakin he loves him — even if it was never real.