Chapter Text
The anniversary of Anakin's disappearance was nearing, coming on five long years without the man he fell in love with. It broke him in a way that no other death has ever come close to feeling. He thinks death because, in a war like the one he's experiencing, it seems like the lesser of two evils to die instead of being captured by the Sith. It was hard enough for him to come back from his torture by Ventress, and that only lasted three months.
The last time Obi-Wan had seen Anakin was the day before they lost contact with the Twilight.
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It devastated him that Anakin would be leaving before they could settle their argument. The Hardeen incident was only two weeks prior, and the Jedi Knight had yet to look him in the eye. Was avoiding him at every turn, and if their paths did cross, there was no emotion on the younger man's face.
Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was becoming desperate in his attempts to get some type of reaction from the other Jedi, and when he heard that Ankain had volunteered for a solo mission, refusing to let even Ahsoka join him. That was when it truly cemented in his mind that he royally kirffed up.
He couldn't let the other man leave without settling their argument. Without having the chance to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
Obi-Wan sidestepped, almost tripping as he just managed to avoid plowing over a group of younglings, running into the Hanger. Uncaring what the other Jedi Masters might think as he spirited toward his old Padawan's ship.
The Knight was walking up the ramp when Obi-Wan came into view.
"Anakin!" he yelled, knowing that if Anakin truly didn't want to stop and that if he kept going up that ramp, Obi-Wan would have to wait for him to return.
Anakin didn't stop; there was no hesitation in his steps. "Padawan, please!" That, the Jedi Master was glad to note, got the younger man to falter. His lover always did like when he begged; it gave him a sense of power he felt was missing outside of their regular interactions.
Obi-Wan came to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. "Anakin, I'm sorry--"
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ANAKIN'S PERSPECTIVE
When Anakin Skywalker loved, it was with his whole being. He left nothing of himself behind; he gave everything. But at this moment in time, he wished he didn't. Anakin knew that these negative feelings would disappear, but he needed time to think without another's opinion invading his thoughts.
So he ignored his Master's first call, intending to leave without a goodbye. He would be back soon enough anyway, but when Obi-Wan's voice, which echoed throughout the Hanger, sounded pleading, his body recoiled at the thought of leaving him like that.
Anakin paused, listening to his Master's steps, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.
"Anakin, I'm sorry—" Obi-Wan had started, but Anakin just couldn't listen to another apology. The Jedi Knight was done with apologies. Truthfully, he had forgiven the other man the moment he realized he was alive. But his anger was still so rampant that any time he laid eyes on Obi-Wan, he saw red. Thus, he stayed away.
"I Know, Master." He interrupted, voice sounding cold to his ears, but it was better than raging at the other man.
Obi-Wan was quiet for a second, most likely completing his next move. Anakin wouldn't know; he refused to turn around. When the silence continued, and his anger and frustration at the man behind him started to bubble up, forming something ugly within his soul, the Jedi Knight decided he couldn't wait any longer and continued up the ramp.
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His head hurt, pounding in tune with the water droplets that fell on his forehead. The room Anakin was in blew out frigid air in uneven increments, chilling his body to the core. And though he didn't have the strength to open his eyes, he knew that his breath left a cloud of steam in its wake regardless of the gag they had administered.
Time was starting to escape his grasp, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours since his capture.
Idly, he wondered what his captors wanted. They didn't speak when they entered his prison cell; they just watched. It was almost like they were afraid he would disappear. He wasn't used to the silence; usually, when the 'Hero With No Fear' was thrown in the brig, taunting and verbal abuse were involved.
Anakin's eyes flickered over to the door when it slid open, savoring the slight heat that leaked into the room. He watched in confusion as a cloaked figure entered, followed by Nala Se, the chief medical scientist responsible for the clones' creation, and Lama Su, the Kamino Prime Minister.
"Is this the subject?" Nala Su asked, turning calmly toward the Cloaked figure as she removed a needle from her sleeve.
At that, Anakin started to struggle, trying in vain to pull against the restraints, yelling muffled curses at the long necks that looked at him like a toy to play with. His last thought before the needle pierced his neck was of Obi-Wan.