Chapter Text
Obi-Wan's body jerked back as the sensation of falling—if he could call his consciousness slamming back into his body falling—once again caught up with him.
The world around him went silent, and the Force settled into something that might have resembled peaceful if it weren't for Obi-Wan's own turmoil.
He clenched his fists—his palms were clean and whole, not the bloody, mangled things they'd become—and took in a deep breath, before opening his eyes.
Somehow the disappointment and despair were still as potent as ever when he saw that he was in his quarters on the Negotiator, sitting at his desk full of too many data pads, whole and unharmed. Or rather, relatively unharmed. His shoulder throbbed a little from a still-healing bruise and his ribs ached, though quite frankly he had no recollection of how he might have gotten those injuries.
The grief rose like a tidal wave, threatening to sweep him away. Once, Obi-Wan would have been anchored enough to withstand it, but his foundation was beginning to crumble and now Obi-Wan was more likely to drown than weather the storm.
He was hanging on for dear life.
He snorted, though it came out rough, as though it had gotten caught up with a sob. Dear life. No, there was nothing dear about this life, and he'd give it up gladly if that meant things would just end. But death meant nothing, death gave him nothing.
He buried his face in his hands, blocking out the sight of the room around him—wishing he could block out everything else just as easily. Force help him. He didn't know how much longer he could last.
His comm sounded, and he reached blindly for it. "General Kenobi, here."
Admiral Yularen's voice came through, tinny and grating as he requested Obi-Wan’s presence on the bridge.
It was easy to respond with rote words in an exchange that he had long-since memorized, only paying partial attention as he tried to pull himself together.
He was cracking, his sanity and his soul fracturing like glass.
He ended the comm call, clenching the device in his fist for a long moment as he considered his decisions. Go to the bridge, continue on. Or just... not. Just stay here in his small room and wait for it all to end.
Another choked noise escaped him, a sob masquerading as a heavy breath.
He forced it all down, took the tangled knot of emotions and boxed them away into a corner of his mind. It was unhealthy, an antithesis to how he’d been trained; it wasn't the way a Jedi was supposed to handle their grief.
He just... he couldn't.
It wasn't for lack of trying. He'd tried and tried to come to terms with his grief, to understand it, to let it go.
But it was like trying to empty Mon Cala's oceans with a leaky bucket.
There was just too much, and it went on and on without end.
So instead he blocked off the grief, or tried to, because that was the only way he could keep going.
He forced himself to his feet, his body moving on autopilot as his hands aimlessly shuffled the data pads into piles before he straightened his tunics and headed towards the door.
If his hand trembled as he waved the door open, well, there was no one around to notice.
By the time he walked out of his quarters he had managed to don the mask of capable-and-in-control General. The mask was wearing thin, tattered around the edges. But it was all he had, and if the past few iterations of this life were any indication, there was no one who would call him on it.
There was a war, and they all had their parts to play in it.
Jumper and Tonedeaf turned the corner ahead of him, their voices intent and serious. Something that wasn't quite joy tugged at Obi-Wan's heart.
He knew what they were arguing about, it was part two of a rather heated debate about whether Tonedeaf was capable of seducing Lullaby.
Obi-Wan had joined the argument a few times—it had been the 77th iteration, or was it the 78th, of this false-life; he'd been exhausted and breaking, and had needed to escape, even if only for a moment—the men had welcomed him into the discussion with ease. In the end, Tonedeaf proved correct. Though, that was likely due more to Lullaby's absolute willingness to be seduced by Tonedeaf, than from any actual seductive talent on the young trooper’s part.
Obi-Wan clung to the warmth of the memory as tightly as he could, even as that almost-happiness slipped through his fingers. Nothing lasted, not the joy, not the hope—however rarely hope showed up—not the comfort.
The only thing that lasted was despair.
He nodded to Tonedeaf and Jumper, the two men giving him respectful nods and small smiles as they passed, debate growing more energetic.
Obi-Wan kept walking, feeling his feet grow heavier and heavier as he made it closer to the bridge.
He stepped onto the bridge to the familiar sight of Anakin pacing back and forth, his arms folded behind him and his fists clenched. Anakin's fear and anger were a powerful whirlwind in the Force. Obi-Wan felt a faint shiver go down his back. He knew now how quickly that whirlwind could turn into a furious maelstrom of fire and destruction that would leave only ash and death behind.
Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wondered how he had let things get so out of hand that first time. How had he let Anakin slip so close to the edge?
Obi-Wan found his steps faltering as he made it further onto the bridge, inexorably exhausted. Was there any point to this?
Was there any point to another planning session where Obi-Wan parsed through minute variations of the same events, where no matter what change, it always led him back to that moment where he opened his eyes and saw his desk full of data pads?
Was there any point to saving Anakin? To saving the Jedi? To saving the clones? To saving the Republic? When in a single breath it could all be erased and Obi-Wan would find himself at the start all over again.
What was the point? Obi-Wan was broken and fractured, but at this moment he thought that even the slightest nudge might shatter him into a million tiny pieces from which he would have no chance of putting himself back together.
Some of his grief must have slipped into the Force, because Anakin's head jerked up, face turning towards Obi-Wan. But there was no concern there, no respite; Anakin's face was lined with a mix of hope and expectation. His priority right now was not his broken former Master, no, his priority was the rescue of the Chancellor.
Once upon a time Obi-Wan might have been proud that Anakin could put his attachment to Obi-Wan below his duty to the Republic.
The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.
Anakin was looking at Obi-Wan as though he thought Obi-Wan would already have a plan in place, ready to execute. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it helped or not that Anakin was right. Even that first time, when Obi-Wan hadn't known everything he knew now, he'd had a plan.
In this, at least, Anakin still trusted that Obi-Wan had the power to fix the impossible.
At least there was one thing that Anakin trusted Obi-Wan with. He certainly didn't trust Obi-Wan with anything else.
It was an old wound now, but one that couldn't heal with how often it was ripped back open.
"Obi-Wan." Anakin's face shifted into a smile. "You're here. We've just received more information from Coruscant about the Chancellor's abduction. Our forces are managing to hold Grievous' ship within Coruscant's outer atmosphere for now.”
Obi-Wan nodded, tried to muster up a smile. "Excellent. We can work with that." He'd certainly done so some 200 times now.
Anakin turned away from him, not noticing how worn Obi-Wan's mask was. Or perhaps not caring.
It was always so difficult for Obi-Wan to tell.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, doing his best to shore up his fracturing mind, and once again stepped forward.
Cody glanced at him, brow furrowed in concern.
Where Anakin almost never noticed, Cody almost always did.
Obi-Wan gave Cody a smile, internally wincing when Cody's frown deepened as though he saw straight through the mask that Obi-Wan was wearing.
No matter. There was nothing Cody could do.
Obi-Wan stepped up to the holo table displaying what information they'd been sent.
"I think I might have a plan." Around the table, Anakin, Cody, Rex, and Yularen all looked at him expectantly. Obi-Wan turned towards Anakin. "I'm sure you'll love it." Anakin always did.
From across the holo table Cody sighed. "I'm going to hate it, aren't I?"
A hint of genuine amusement managed to slip into Obi-Wan's smile. Cody did hate it; not a single iteration that Obi-Wan had used this plan had gone by without Cody lecturing him on insane risks and ridiculously stupid plans. "Oh, yes. I daresay you will."
Beside him Captain Rex snorted, sending Cody an amused look while Anakin folded his arms. “Well, don’t leave us in suspense.”
Obi-Wan nodded and started detailing the plan they'd used the very first iteration of this blasted life, before everything had begun careening through all nine levels of Corellian Hell.
There were changes of course.
Obi-Wan had heard Oddball die too many times to let him or any of the other men fly in support. He knew this flight by heart, he wouldn't endanger his men.
While he talked Obi-Wan mused over whether he should let Palpatine die this time.
It was one of the sure-fire ways to start the loop over again.
There had been a few loops—far enough into this living hell that the horror had fully sunk into his soul, but before Obi-Wan had fully realized how very hopeless it all was—where Obi-Wan had systematically, and at times creatively, killed Palpatine as quickly as possible.
The Sith Lord had not been amused, and that next iteration he had forced Obi-Wan to watch as he'd tortured Anakin into near insanity before laughing—that cold, chilling sound that made Obi-Wan feel sick—and sending him back.
Which didn't mean that Obi-Wan couldn't kill Palpatine.
No, the man seemed to take some sort of perverse pleasure out of it. He always talked about the hate that flowed through Obi-Wan, about the fracture points the Sith could see lining Obi-Wan's soul.
The worst part was that the Sith wasn't wrong.
Obi-Wan hated him. Hated him like Obi-Wan hadn't known it was possible to hate anything. It was a seed of poison he could feel growing within him, trying to taint everything it touched.
For all that Obi-Wan tried, he couldn't manage to release this hate. Couldn’t work his way through it to the point of being able to release it to the Force. No, by this point all Obi-Wan could do was try and keep the hate from tainting and completely overtaking him.
"What do you think, General Kenobi?"
Obi-Wan looked up, smiling at Yularen. It was a good thing that he knew almost exactly how this planning session went and could quickly determine at what point in the conversation they were so that he could quickly point out the weakness in the Admiral's suggestion without drawing attention to the absolute lack of attention he was paying.
Commander Cody was looking at him again, lips pursed. His Commander was far too observant for Obi-Wan's good, and knew him far too well.
Obi-Wan averted his eyes. His gaze fell on the blaster hanging from Cody's hip.
How many times now, had that weapon killed him?
Something painful was knotting in Obi-Wan's throat. More grief. It had taken Obi-Wan a good dozen iterations to learn about the chips and how they worked. Another three to figure out how to disable them. Two more to figure out how to permanently neutralize them.
But that wasn't always enough.
No, Palpatine liked to remind Obi-Wan who was in control, and playing his hand with the chips early was one of his favorite ways.
It was Cody—Cody who was always by his side, Cody who had watched his back for so long that Obi-Wan couldn't imagine entrusting his safety to anyone else, Cody who Obi-Wan couldn't imagine raising his saber against, not even in defense—who most often dealt that final blow.
A deserved death.
That didn't stop Obi-Wan from wanting to retch every time he opened his eyes after he met his end in that way.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a second, trying to push the rising grief back down to more manageable levels.
He felt Cody shift, as though he wanted to move around the table to stand by Obi-Wan's side.
Concern.
Force, not a good sign, normally Obi-Wan kept himself together enough that Cody didn't so noticeably react. Not that Obi-Wan ever thought he'd really managed to fly under Cody's radar, but, well... Obi-Wan was starting to shatter. Worse, he was losing the ability to hide it.
He forced his eyes open, giving Cody his most reassuring smile.
Cody didn't seem at all reassured.
But Obi-Wan didn't have the ability to actually give Cody the assurance that he really needed, there was no such comfort to give. So he focused back on the plans, trying to make himself pay attention.
Commander Cody followed his lead, joining the planning session again.
Things managed to get back on track from there and Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief.
Too soon. Cody took that moment to suggest, again, that Oddball fly protection. Obi-Wan steeled himself. EH’d yet to get through this portion of the meeting without argument.
But he wouldn't let Oddball die needlessly.
Obi-Wan had been through this flight countless times, he wouldn't make the mistakes he'd made the first several times.
Needless to say, he couldn't exactly explain that to Cody.
To Cody it just looked like Obi-Wan was being reckless.
Luckily for Obi-Wan, he'd gone through this argument more times than he could count, and he knew he was in the right. (There had been a few extra times when he had admittedly been a little reckless. He couldn't be sure, as most of those times ended with either him or Palpatine dead and the loop starting over, but Cody would have probably wanted to murder him—and Obi-Wan couldn't keep using that turn of phrase, given how many times that had happened—for any and all of those plans.)
Obi-Wan tilted his chin up, channeling every inch of control and command he had. "I appreciate your input, Commander, as I always have. But Oddball and his squad will not be following Anakin and I. We can make the flight, and we won't needlessly put our men in danger."
Admiral Yularen frowned. "This is a rescue of the Chancellor, General Kenobi, I don't think we should be taking any risks, no matter how talented you and General Skywalker are."
Obi-Wan turned his gaze on the Admiral, raising a single eyebrow, before turning back to the plans. "Does anyone else have a suggestion to share?" Admiral Yularen seemed a little taken aback; frankly Obi-Wan couldn't remember if he'd ever so completely dismissed the Admiral in the time before... well, the time before all of this had happened.
How long had he even been stuck in this trap? A few of his iterations had lasted only hours, but then there had been loops that had gone on for years. The longest had been—how long had it been? Three years?
That sounded right.
He swallowed heavily, trying to forget those three years.
The whole galaxy had been in ruins; it had been Obi-Wan, six younglings, and Anakin and Padme's twin children, running from everyone and everything.
He didn't know why Palpatine had let him run for so long. Maybe he'd just been taking the opportunity to practice the overthrowing of a government. Or perhaps he'd been cackling over the futility of Obi-Wan's actions.
Obi-Wan wasn't going to pretend to understand the mind of a Sith Lord, much less a Sith Lord like Palpatine.
But with all the different iterations, some lasting no longer than it took for Obi-Wan to blow up Grievous' ship, others lasting years... Force, he didn't know. He didn't know how long he'd been trapped here.
The thought shook him, and he had to carefully place his hand on the edge of the holo table to steady himself.
His mind seemed to have been stripped of every thought that wasn't horrified, anguished desperation.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't.
He couldn't withstand an eternity of this.
Force.
Rex's elbow brushed against his, a subtle attempt to bring him back to the present moment without drawing attention to his distraction. Obi-Wan tried desperately, staring at the different details on the holo table of the upcoming battle.
It was a battle they could win, Obi-Wan knew. They'd won it before.
Just another battle in a war that Obi-Wan was losing, in a war that, if Obi-Wan was truly honest with himself, he had already lost.
He couldn't breathe.
No, no he couldn't lose it. Not right now. Not while he was on the bridge, not where Anakin and their men would see.
He clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand, desperate to pull himself from the brink.
He felt liquid, warm and sticky, and the sensation pulled him from his impending hyperventilation.
Force. He'd drawn blood.
He drew back a little, shaking out his robes to make sure they covered his hands, as he glanced around the table. Anakin seemed distracted, and Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. Anakin somehow hadn't noticed, too many other concerns on his mind, or maybe the Force was feeling merciful.
Not merciful enough, as both Cody and Rex were giving him concerned looks.
He quickly turned back to the battle plans, throwing out a suggestion to try and distract the both of them.
Cody gave him a pointed look, as though he saw straight through Obi-Wan's rather paltry attempt, but turned back to the table willingly enough.
Twice now. Twice he'd lost focus, had almost fallen apart. Twice in one planning session.
Obi-Wan hadn't been this much of a mess since that first time he'd repeated this, when he hadn't known what was going on. And that had been before he'd ever learned about the chips and thought that Cody and the rest of the men were planning on turning on him and killing him. He hadn't even truly understood why Anakin had fallen.
He hadn't even really understood how he'd gotten here then.
He felt as lost and as hopeless now as he'd felt then. More so. At least then he'd been able to cling to the delusion that he might be able to fix things.
And he had. Not that first time, not if he was being fully honest. No, then he'd taken Palpatine out, dying in the process, and left the rest of the clean up for the survivors.
Or that had been the plan, at least, except that it had only restarted the loop. But Obi-Wan hadn't known yet what sort of torture he was trapped in.
It was tempting, so tempting, to just... not try. Not Fall. Not break. But to just stop. Wasn't this the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?
Sure, his methods might change. But he was trying to fix things in a situation where he knew it didn't matter. It all just got reset.
The lives he saved. The deaths he caused. Anything he managed to alter..
All gone, as though none of it had ever happened.
Shattering. He was shattering.
Obi-Wan wanted to believe that he wouldn't Fall. Wanted to believe that it didn't matter how many times Palpatine made him relive these days, that Obi-Wan would stay firmly in the light.
But could he hold off against an infinity of hopelessness? Of darkness? An infinity where nothing he did mattered?
An infinity he could escape in only one way.
No. No. Focus on the plans.
He tuned back in to listen to Admiral Yularen and Cody as they deliberated over when and where they should come out of hyperspace, weighing the risk of coming out too close to the fight versus the advantage surprise would give them.
He watched them blankly, trying desperately to muster up the energy to talk, to say something.
His eyes fell on Cody's blaster again.
A terrible thought was starting to form in his mind.
There was only one way out.
Palpatine would only let this end when Obi-Wan had Fallen.
There was a chance then, that if Obi-Wan Fell, and then, and only then, killed Palpatine, that this might end.
It would be worth it.
What was Obi-Wan's soul in comparison to the galaxy's freedom? But every time Obi-Wan so much as considered the thought, the Force pulled at him, pleading with him.
Some part of Obi-Wan wanted to ignore the Force.
What good did the Force do him now? It had done nothing to help him. It had abandoned him.
And yet...
Yet it still wrapped around him, whispering promises of peace. And while those promises felt more and more like empty lies...
Obi-Wan couldn't pull his eyes from Cody's blaster.
Obi-Wan's death never did anything more than start the loop over.
But that was at the hand of enemies or a sacrifice play to either take down an enemy or to save someone else.
Palpatine wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan had Fallen, wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan gave Palpatine a shattered galaxy in payment for his release.
But if Palpatine thought that Obi-Wan was breaking, not towards Darkness but to something else altogether…
Obi-Wan swallowed hard, the sudden swell of longing taking him by surprise.
A loophole, or at least Obi-Wan hoped that was what this was. An escape route.
He could be done.
No more repeating the same mistakes in so many different ways. No more watching the world burn down around him. No more failure after failure, with a few mockeries of success thrown into the mix.
Just... nothingness.
Just him and the Force.
His hands were shaking.
"Cody." His voice didn't even sound like his own as he interrupted Anakin. "Could I see your blaster for just a moment?"
Cody glanced at him, brows furrowed in confusion. But Cody trusted him, something Obi-Wan had ample evidence that he did not deserve, and willingly handed over his blaster, passing it over the holo table.
Anakin rolled his eyes before continuing with his contribution to the plan, something about R2 that Obi-Wan knew would be agreed to.
Obi-Wan stared at the blaster in his hands, watched as his hands stilled from the way there were shaking. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small smear of blood left behind from his still-bleeding palm on an exposed part of the blaster’s grip.
It felt almost like a dream.
Like Obi-Wan's hands were moving without his full permission.
This would work.
He shifted the blaster, raising it to the bottom of his jaw.
This had to work.
It would be quick. Nearly painless. A kinder death than Obi-Wan deserved.
But perhaps fate could give him this one mercy, after all, it had already extracted so many painful deaths and even more painful lives.
Obi-Wan didn't know what he would do if this didn't work.
Cody's voice was sharp and demanding, he was throwing himself forward, towards Obi-Wan in an attempt to stop this. Anakin's eyes were panicked, hand stretched out to pull at the blaster with the Force.
Obi-Wan stepped back, finger squeezing the trigger.
Someone crashed into him from the side, pushing at the blaster causing the bolt to sear heat across the side of his face, and then he was falling backwards.
Rex was straddling him, wrestling the blaster out of Obi-Wan's hands, practically throwing the weapon away from them before hands were pinning Obi-Wan's wrists to the ground and away from anything else he might have been able to use to do the job properly.
No.
No. He'd needed this to work.
Rex was staring down at him, eyes wide and terrified.
He didn't have anything else.
Around him the bridge was loud, too many words that Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to understand.
Obi-Wan shattered.
"Please. Please. I can't. I can't do this. Please. Just let me end it. I need it to end. Please." The words were pouring out of his mouth, desperate and begging. "Please. I can't do this. I can't. I can't. This is the only way. It's the only way. Please."
Rex just shook his head, and his lips were moving, trying to calm him, or comfort him, or maybe Rex was cursing him out. Obi-Wan couldn't actually hear past the rushing in his ears and his mind's desperate pleas for release, for peace.
And then suddenly Coarse was there, hypo in one of the medic’s hands. The look in his eyes a familiar sort of desperate.
He felt cold, just against his skin.
"Please." It was nothing more than a whisper now, and he knew that they wouldn't listen.
Why didn't they understand? There were small beads of warmth slipping down his cheeks. Tears.
The world was going gray around him. And why? Why wouldn't they let him die?
—
The world returned slowly, with the sensation of someone's hand running through his hair. The hum of the hyperdrive. The smell of bacta and cleaning detergent familiar to the med bay. Confusion and concern and a deep, heavy fear lingering in the Force.
The memory of what he'd done. What he'd tried to do.
He opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he stared at the ceiling of the Negotiator's med bay.
From the corner of his eye he saw Boil.
Good, loyal Boil, who smiled a little less now that Waxer was gone.
"General." Boil's voice was soft, careful. Like Obi-Wan was a shiny who'd just gotten out of his first battle to find he was the only one from his batch left.
Obi-Wan had heard that tone too many times throughout the war. Too many good men, killed.
"Boil." Obi-Wan's voice was scratchy, how long had they kept him unconscious? "What happened?"
Boil hesitated. "What do you remember?"
Obi-Wan felt another swell of grief wash over him. He'd been so close.
"I had Cody's blaster, I tried to..." Boil's face didn't change, but Obi-Wan could practically feel him flinch in the Force. "I'm sorry." Obi-Wan said quietly. "I shouldn't have made you see that."
He should have returned to his cabin and just put his lightsaber through his heart.
Something of his thought must have shown, either in his face or his voice, because Boil tensed, fear rocketing through the Force.
"General." Boil's voice broke. "You can't..." Boil took a deep breath in. "We need you, General."
"You don't." Obi-Wan whispered. "All I'll bring you is pain."
"No, General." Boil shook his head. "You can't believe that."
It was the truth though. Obi-Wan had failed them that first time and every time after.
Another thought occurred to him. "Boil? Are you hurt? Why are you in the med bay? Should you be up like this?"
Boil shushed him quietly, fingers once again combing through his hair. "It's fine, General. I'm fine. But someone had to be here on watch."
On watch. For him.
To keep Obi-Wan from trying again. He swallowed hard. "What happened, after?"
Boil frowned. "I should call for Coarse, sir."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. No, Coarse is needed wherever he is."
"Then the Commander."
Something cold and painful shriveled in Obi-Wan's chest. Force. Commander Cody. Obi-Wan couldn't face him.
"No. I can't—"
But it was too late, Cody had always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Obi-Wan—the sort of timing that would have made Obi-Wan think Cody was Force sensitive if Obi-Wan hadn't known for a fact that he wasn't—and he chose that moment to walk through the med bay doors, Rex close behind him.
Cody was wearing his helmet, hiding his face from Obi-Wan's view, but Obi-Wan didn't need to see his expression to read him.
Cody was furious.
Furious and scared.
"General." Obi-Wan flinched back. The word had come out sharp and curt, and it was like a lash against his already bleeding heart.
Cody must have seen the flinch, as his whole body seemed to shudder. Rex moved the slightest bit forward, and their elbows knocked together.
The two of them were always stronger together.
"General." Softer this time. "You're awake."
Obi-Wan nodded. "What's happened since..." there was no good way to put it, not in a way that didn't seem tactless. "What happened, after?"
Cody cleared his throat. "General Skywalker implemented the plan we'd come up with, though Master Windu took your place. The Chancellor was rescued and Count Dooku killed." Cody hesitated, and it was so unlike him that Obi-Wan already knew what had happened. "General Grievous escaped, sir. And Master Windu..." Cody paused again. "He didn't survive, sir."
The grief was a familiar sensation, and yet it never seemed to lose its potency.
How had it happened? Had Anakin left Mace to die, the way Anakin had once refused to leave Obi-Wan? Had Dooku or Grievous gotten lucky? Or perhaps Palpatine had wanted to take the opportunity to execute a bit of revenge?
Did it matter?
However it had happened, it was Obi-Wan's fault.
Would it ever stop hurting?
Did Obi-Wan want it to? Would being numb protect him? Or just hasten his inevitable, downward descent?
And it was inevitable, wasn't it?
It seemed clearer now, if all the more painful, that Palpatine would have taken the way Obi-Wan had broken down as a sign that he was getting closer to breaking apart in such a way that Palpatine would be free to put him back together however the Sith Lord pleased.
There was a soft brush of cold plastoid against his wrist, and he looked down to see Cody's still gauntleted hand resting tentatively against his own.
An attempt to comfort him.
Obi-Wan clung to it desperately.
To the brush of a hand against his, to the feel of Boil still trying to soothe him with fingers through his hair, to the love and care that was the core emotion behind the fury and the fear caused by Obi-Wan's foolish and desperate attempt to be free.
He clung to all of it, trying to store it, trying to remember it, trying to use that love and care to fill all the broken cracks inside of him.
"General." Cody's voice was almost unbearably gentle. "I know the losses in the outer rim were—" Cody stopped and it was Rex who stepped forward to finish for him.
"Between Mandalore and the Outer Rim Sieges the losses have been—" and here even Rex paused, but when he spoke there was nothing but the faint tremble in the Force to show he was hurting. "The losses have been tremendous."
It was a different sort of guilt that hit Obi-Wan then. It had been so long. So long since those sieges. So long since those deaths.
They felt like another life altogether.
Obi-Wan couldn't save any of them. Not Satine, not his men. He couldn't give them even a few seconds more of life, before it was all wiped clean again.
His Commander spoke again, and there was a note of entreat, as though Cody was begging Obi-Wan. "But we're getting so close. You can't lose hope now. Dooku is dead, Grievous is being tracked. It'll be over. The war will be over soon.”
Obi-Wan had thought that once.
"It won't." The words were ripped from his throat, desperation demanding it. "It won't ever be over for me. This is all there is. Death, death, and more death. And then it starts all over again."
He could feel his Commander preparing to say something, but he pushed on. Now that he had started he couldn't stop.
"It's a trap," he told them, because he was tired and alone and he had just shattered, forcing them to watch as he self-destructed in front of them. "It's a never-ending loop, starting here and going through the last days of the war. It doesn't matter what I do, I always end back here. He won't let me escape. Not until I break."
In a kind world, Palpatine would watch Obi-Wan break, would see him Fall, and would kill him. A final victory.
But Obi-Wan knew better. This wasn't a kind world. Palpatine wouldn't be happy until Obi-Wan had Fallen so far he'd be willing to break the entire galaxy into a mirror image of his shattered soul and handed it to Palpatine on a silver platter.
Around him, the three men hesitated, clearly unsure what to say. Wondering if he was crazy.
He was.
He was insane.
But he wasn't wrong.
"What does that mean, exactly?" Rex asked, voice careful.
Obi-Wan swallowed. "You won't believe me."
They would, actually. Obi-Wan had told Cody, once. Cody had believed him, had helped him.
It hadn't mattered in the end.
Nothing did.
What he said or did now didn't matter.
And if it didn't matter, then perhaps Obi-Wan could steal just a moment of peace. A moment where he wasn't alone in the galaxy.
And so he told them.
He told them about the first life. About saving the Chancellor, about taking the 212th to Utapau, about killing Grievous.
He told them about the cannon blast knocking him from a cliff. The shot taken by his men and ordered by Cody. He could feel his men stiffen, unwilling to believe that they would ever turn on him. He didn't give them space to talk, forcing himself to finish the story.
He told them about Coruscant, about the temple filled with the corpses of Jedi and clones both, killed by each other. He told them about what Anakin had done. About the younglings that had trusted in their hero and been slaughtered for that trust.
Rex didn't want to believe him any more than Cody or Boil had believed that they'd turn on him.
The 501st would follow General Skywalker anywhere, anywhere but against an unsuspecting temple filled with younglings who trusted them.
He told them about going to Padme, about Mustafar. He told them about a duel that Obi-Wan had never wanted to fight and that Anakin had never imagined he'd lose.
He confessed, heart breaking even though it had been so many lives ago, about taking Anakin's life with a single, unstoppable blow to the neck after he'd begged Anakin not to jump.
He told them about how Palpatine had found him there, cradling the body of his brother, how Palpatine had stared at his Fallen apprentice and laughed.
Obi-Wan could still remember the way Palpatine had looked at him then. That moment, Obi-Wan had realized only with hindsight, had been when Palpatine had chosen Obi-Wan to be his new apprentice.
In that life, Obi-Wan never made it off Mustafar. Those last few hours, days, maybe even weeks, remained a blur as Palpatine had dug into him with tools, and lightsaber, and with the Force, tearing him apart and demanding he break. Demanding he submit.
Only when Obi-Wan had been too weak to continue surviving, had been hanging inches away from death, had Palpatine decided that there was a far more satisfying way to break him.
Over 200 lives into this torture and still Obi-Wan didn't know what wretched Sith curse this was.
His men had fallen silent, not even a word of protest as they listened to him talk.
About that second life that ended in only a few short hours when Obi-Wan had blown up Grievous' ship, killing himself, Anakin, Dooku, Grievous, and Palpatine all in that single blast.
Of the third life where he died in the temple under the constant wave of the 501st as he tried to get the younglings out through the secret passageways.
He begged for forgiveness as he explained how long it had taken him to learn about the chips, how long it had taken him to save them.
How long he had gone, believing that they were capable of everything he'd seen them do.
He told them about how he and Cody had discovered the signal that would stun the chips for a short time, about the device they'd only realized they needed three lives later, that would more permanently disable the chips.
He spoke brokenly, words mixing together, about how Palaptine would sometimes send the order early, just because he could and he liked watching Obi-Wan break apart when he woke up back at the beginning, after he let Cody kill him.
Cody's hand twitched in his own, grip tightening to the point of pain, but Obi-Wan wouldn't, couldn't, draw his hand away from his Commander.
He told them about searching the archives for help, about getting so close to finding an answer just to wake up, loop ended early as Palpatine stopped him. He told them about trying again and again, until Palpatine preemptively burned the temple archives, younglings trapped inside, forcing Obi-Wan to listen to the children as they screamed.
He told them about going to the Council for help.
Of going to Mace for help.
Of going to Anakin.
To the 212th.
He told them about the times when it felt like he'd been so close to succeeding.
And about those lives where everything ended up so, so much worse.
He admitted to running away, how Palpatine had once let him live for nearly a year, wondering if he'd escaped the nightmare he'd been trapped in—even as he watched as another nightmare took over the Galaxy at the hands of Anakin and his new Master.
He told them about the babies, about Luke and Leia, and how sometimes they were the only lights left in the infinite darkness.
And how sometimes they died with their mother, and Obi-Wan was left alone, surrounded by corpses.
He told them about the time the Senate ordered the clones to march on the Temple and how they had all refused; how eventually, all of them had been killed, clones and Jedi together, by a constant barrage of air strikes.
He didn't tell them everything.
There was too much now, to tell them everything.
This wasn't for them anyways. Obi-Wan was trapped, Palpatine the only one who knew what was happening. It had been too many lives since Obi-Wan had allowed himself to break around anyone who cared about him.
And they did. Even when Obi-Wan admitted how many times he wasn't able to save them. Even when he whispered about how easily he had believed the worst of them those first few times through the loop.
Their hands held his own, their fingers slid comfortingly through his hair, their presence in the Force remained steady and warm, shifting from disbelief to the quiet horror that came with acceptance, but somehow, even as he confessed to the worst of his sins, they were never horrified of him.
He told them about waking up, over and over, staring at the desk full of too many datapads and how sometimes he broke down there, in his office, because he couldn't do this again.
Then getting up and trying again anyways.
He admitted, voice and heart broken, that he was terrified. There was only so much he could do, only so much he could take. There was only so much he could withstand and he'd gone past that point so long ago he wasn't sure how he was still standing.
He whispered, shame filling him, that he had considered Falling, with the hope that if he killed Palpatine after Falling, that it would finally end the loop, stopped only by the Force's quiet plea that he not.
He told them about waking up, exhausted down to the depths of his soul, because he didn't know what else he was supposed to do, and dying by his own hand had seemed just as reasonable a choice as anything else, and it carried with it the faint hope that Palpatine would consider him too broken to bother with.
"What can we do?" Cody asked quietly, after Obi-Wan had finally run out of words.
Obi-Wan forced a smile. "Nothing." He shook his head. "There's nothing to be done."
Cody's hand tightened around Obi-Wan's own. "No, I can't believe that. There must be something. Anything. We've beat worse."
They hadn't. They had never faced anything like this before. But Obi-Wan understood anyway.
"Don't leave me." He whispered. "Not during this life."
Let Obi-Wan have these moments, these memories, of a time when the world wasn't a nightmare.
"I won't." Cody whispered. "I won't leave you."
Rex's voice was soft. "Not for a single moment, General."
Boil's promise echoed theirs. "We're here."
It was ten seconds of peace, of broken hope that knew better than to believe.
And then the Force was rippling, as the world seemed to crack around the edges, reality breaking apart, the entire world screaming, the way it always did, as time, life, and the Force bent to the cruel will of a madman.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, feeling a tear slip pass a close eyelid. "Not yet, please."
His men didn't let go of him, their grips tightening as though they were trying to keep him present in a world that was already tearing at the seams to be remade.
"General. Obi-Wan." Cody's voice was fierce and desperate, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Cody staring at him, eyes wide and afraid. "Don't give up. Please."
Obi-Wan shook his head.
Cody's grip on his hand was tight to the point of being painful, not malice or punishment, just desperation. "Please, General. Promise me. Promise me you won't give up."
"Cody. I—" He couldn't promise. Not when he still felt so close to falling apart.
"Please."
“I—"
He never got to finish the sentence, the world falling away.
Obi-Wan's body jerked back as the sensation of falling—if he could call his consciousness slamming back into his body falling—once again caught up with him.
The world around him went silent, and the Force settled into something that might have resembled peaceful if it weren't for Obi-Wan's own turmoil.
He didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to pretend for just a second longer that he was back in the med bay with people who cared about him, with people who knew the truth.
But no one knew now, no one but him and Palpatine.
He opened his eyes.
Somehow the disappointment and despair were still as potent as ever when he saw that he was in his quarters on the Negotiator, sitting at his desk full of too many data pads.
The grief rose like a tidal wave, threatening to sweep him away.
He was hanging on for dear life.
He buried his face in his hands, blocking out the sight of the room around him—wishing he could block everything else out just as easily. Force help him. He didn't know how much longer he could last.
"Please, General. Promise me. Promise me you won't give up."
Cody had begged it of him. Had begged him to not give up.
But Obi-Wan hadn't promised. And Cody wouldn't remember either way.
His comm sounded, and he reached blindly for it. "General Kenobi, here."
Admiral Yularen's voice came through the comm, tinny and grating as the Admiral requested his presence on the bridge.
"Please, General. Promise me. Promise me you won't give up."
Obi-Wan pushed himself to his feet, exhaustion already weighing him down, a heavy, suffocating thing.
He hadn't promised Cody he wouldn't give up. Obi-Wan didn't think he had it in him to promise anyone that, not even Cody.
But perhaps, perhaps for Cody he could promise just one more life. One more loop.
He could make it one more.
"I promise that much, Cody." The words were for him alone. No Cody to hear, and this Cody, on the bridge of the ship and only a few hours younger than the Cody Obi-Wan had just left, wouldn't understand the words anyways. "One more life. One more try. But that's all I can promise you."
He'd survived over 200 iterations, he could survive one more.
