Anakin Skywalker (chosentofall) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-03 19:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, anakin skywalker, obi-wan kenobi |
Who: Obi-Wan and Anakin
When: Sunday Evening 9/29
Where: A bar
What: Meeting up, talking about dreams
Rating/Warning: Low, mentions of limb amputation
Status: Complete
Obi-Wan needed a drink. At least one, possibly more. It depended on how the next hour or so preceded. The last twenty-four of them hadn’t gone quite so smoothly, as he’d been awakened while it was still dark by Padme’s text messages about Qui-Gon’s death. She’d had, in his opinion, what equated to a nightmare. (Those memories certainly had been for him.) And shortly thereafter, just as the sun was burning off the gray clouds of autumn, he’d heard from Faiza that she was staying in England for a second week.
That was another one-hundred sixty-eight hours.
Perhaps there was some benefit to having more than the matter at hand--this fateful meeting--weighing on him. His thoughts were compartmentalized, and therefore they were more like a collection of concerns, like hills, rather than one mountain looming before him. But Obi-Wan knew he was only attempting to fool himself. Because the minute Anakin walked through that door, that hilly plain would flatten, and the lone rock that jutted skyward was a volcano. And he’d seen Anakin in flames once before.
Padme hadn’t been the only one to dream of their other universe the night before, though Anakin’s had been far more enjoyable. Podracing had been thrilling, the sort of thing he didn’t mind seeing if he had to dream, it was a nice change from the pain of being so close to his mother again. A loss he still hadn’t come to terms with and one he hoped the boy he was in his dreams would never have to experience, or at the very least he hoped he would not have to see. And then of course there was the Jedi, the man who seemed to quickly grow close to his mother, or so his dream-self seemed to think. He wasn’t anything like the Jedi he had seen in that ancient holo-recording he had found while working for Watto, and from what he was able to sense there was more going on with that man than he was willing to speak about. Perhaps the Jedi had changed since that recording was made, but in any case he was about to find out.
He wasn’t nervous about this meeting, he hadn’t seen Obi-wan yet, didn’t know of their history and that was likely a blessing. Anakin had been struggling enough with what he had been seeing, he didn’t need the weight of what he had done to his closest friend, wife and the rest of the galaxy hanging on him, not until he knew how to cope. So when he approached Kenobi and offered him his left hand, even if no one else seemed to know the right was artificial he knew and it felt odd not offering the real one, his half smile came easily. “Obi-wan, right? Nice to finally meet you.”
Reactively, Obi-Wan felt his entire body clench, his throat not the least of all as he fought to clear it and respond as quickly (and normally) as possible. Visions of Padme choking flooded him as well, her limp body ultimately falling to the ground, while he forced himself to stand. And take Anakin’s hand.
...The left one. That was a bit odd. His eyes almost involuntarily moved to the right one as he gestured to the seat across from him. “It was generous of you to accept my invitation, considering I contacted you out of the blue.”
“Not at all,” he said as he slid into the seat he was offered, trying not to notice how he had glanced at his right hand. It was still somewhat of a sore spot for him, though more how he lost it than actually having to live with an artificial one. Most never noticed, the flesh-like skin over it good enough to fool most people unless one examined it closely or he exposed himself through the occasional adjustments he had to do to make it function like a real hand. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that the Jedi, or at least a man who had been a Jedi in their shared dream world would notice right away. “I’m pretty eager to find some answers or at least some explanation of just what it is I’ve been seeing.”
He folded his arms and rested them on the table, his posture somewhat relaxed but clearly interested in what Obi-wan had to say. “From the way she talks I gathered that you’ve been having these dreams a while, that you’re far ahead of her. Have you been able to find some sort of reason behind all of this? Or at least some way to cope? I’m sorry if I’m being tactless jumping right into things here, but I lost someone recently and they’ve shown up in the dream world, so it makes hard to start trying to move on, you know?”
Already, Obi-Wan felt like he was in a middle of a play, as though he was a character and not fully himself. What he was thinking privately could not be spoken. Not yet. But, truth be told, he was gifted equilibrist. This was a balancing act. It was quite nearly a performance. For now, he could stuff down all the ways he was tempted to destroy Anakin--the same as the way he was tempted to embrace him.
“I’ve lived in California for a long time now, and the dreams started about a year and a half ago,” he began. His British accent was still rather thick. “As did the… abilities.”
Then, Obi-Wan paused. His brows knit for a moment before he continued. “Who was it that you lost?”
“My mother,” his brow furrowed for a moment then smoothed out again, showing he wasn’t completely comfortable with talking about her in more detail. “She passed last year. Pancreatic cancer. I sort of moved to California to get away from everything that reminded me of her, but now… Now I see her in my dreams and she’s just as real and vivid as she had been when she was alive. So it’s been,” he paused to clear his throat. “It’s been rough.”
He cleared his throat once again, feeling like his heart had leapt up into it just from thinking about her. That and his guilt for not being there, not to mention the loss of his right arm which was the direct result of both. “What do you mean, abilities? Like Jedi abilities?” he was more than a little incredulous. “That shouldn’t be possible. I mean, I know that other guy said he was a Jedi too but actually having Jedi powers because you had a few weird dreams? That’s a little insane, you know that, right?”
Obi-Wan had never met Anakin’s mother. They had never spoken much about mothers, thought perhaps they should have. He’d lost his own, when he was taken from her--no, when she’d handed him over to the Jedi. It often felt like she’d died that day, when he was only a child.
“I’ve dreamt about powers and then woken up with them. And, yes, I did feel like I was losing my mind in the beginning. Occasionally, I wonder if I did…” He tilted his head with a gentle, self-deprecating smile. A natural smile. And then, with a sigh, it turned sour. “I lost my mother, too, actually. In both worlds.”
“I’m sorry.” he said because he knew it was what was supposed to be said in those types of situations, he heard it often enough when it came to his own losses. He knew it wouldn’t help Obi-wan feel any better as it had never made him feel any better, but he could appreciate the thought and the understandable feeling of not knowing what to say. Deep down he feared his dream-self would lose his mother too, he was bracing himself for it already.
Anakin tried to pull the conversation back to their dreams, not wanting to wallow in those depressed emotions he had been stuck in since his mother got sick. “So you’re saying that if I stay here I’m going to keep having these dreams and that one day I might just be able to sense things before they happen like he does or be able to see the future? Yeah, okay, I’m starting to feel like I really have lost it, but can you prove it? Like lift something with the force or read my mind or whatever?”
Directly in front of Obi-Wan was a glass with about an inch of amber-colored liquid. It was Lagavulin whiskey. He reached for it now. “What have you seen so far?” He lifted the glass for a drink. Anakin was focusing on the future, on his fear of what might happen next. It was all too familiar. Obi-Wan hoped to distract him from that, if only briefly.
He could only watch Kenobi as he slowly sat back against the seat, “I, um, yeah. Uh, flashes from his early life as a slave, dreaming about podracing and becoming a Jedi, watching some slave’s head explode when he tried to run. Then there was being won by Watto, working in his shop occasionally podracing a losing horribly. One day Qui-Gon Jinn comes in the shop and I meet him, Jar Jar, Padme and R2 then take them back home with me for dinner. We come up with this plan so Qui-gon can get the parts he needs, so we fix up my pod, he takes a sample of my blood for some reason and gave some bullshit answer and then the podrace where I won. That was last night, not sure if I should be looking forward to sleeping tonight, still haven’t seen you though.”
He hadn’t even noticed that he had started off saying ‘his’ and ‘him’ and ended saying ‘I’ and ‘my’. He was clearly allowing more of the dream world to slip in than he had first thought.
Honestly, Obi-Wan had no personal memory of anything Anakin was describing. While Qui-Gon and Padme had gone to Mos Espa, he had stayed behind to guard the Queen, or so he’d thought at the time.
He nodded soberly. “That’s because I stayed behind on our broken-down ship. Qui-Gon returned shortly after the race, so I suspect you’ll see me soon enough. That is, if your dreams are linear. Mine weren’t. One night I’d be twelve and the next I’d be sixty.”
“So the dreams can get more disorienting, well that’s not really what I was hoping for.” He let out a sigh and ran his left hand through his hair. From what he could tell Obi-wan was being honest with him, that when it came down to reasons why this was happening they were in the same boat. “Is there anything I can do to make them more linear? Meditation or eating something just before bed? I’m not sure I can take jumping around like that, it would be a bit of a shock, as you know.” If only Anakin knew the extent of it, if he had he likely would have tried to sleep again.
“Wait, if you were in touch with Qui-gon then you probably know what he did with my blood. He was looking for something, wasn’t he?” he frowned a moment. “He’s not my father is he? No, him meeting my mother for the first time seemed genuine, unless Jedi can wipe memories. Can you do that?”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. Anakin had always been anxious. Not much had changed, although part of his brain (and heart) were trying to convince himself that they were somehow different people. It was getting harder and harder to stay in character, to play this role. Hearing his familiar voice, watching his mannerisms, looking into his eyes… they were all like flames beneath a boiling pot.
He cleared his throat again for good measure. “No, Qui-Gon was most certainly not your father. That day we came to Tatooine was the first time we, all of us, met you. And even if we could wipe memories, we wouldn’t. It’s not the Jedi way.” He took another drink. His throat was tightening a little. “He was testing you to see if it might be wise to bring you back to Coruscant with us, to the Jedi Temple, for further tests. To see if you might become one of us.”
Had he known about Revan he would have argued that point, then again if he had his memory he would have argued a great deal against the idea that the Jedi wouldn’t have done something like that. The Order had been crumbling long before the Purge, everything that had happened to Ahsoka and how he had been treated were evidence of that, but he would have no memory of that at least for a while. For now the Jedi were everything great that was said of them. “To make me, him, a Jedi. Just like he dreamed.”
Anakin lightly frowned, watching the man across from him, feeling strange for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Obi-wan wasn’t lying or at least he thought he wasn’t, but the man was uneasy and he wasn’t sure why. “The kid is right, isn’t he? He becomes a Jedi, maybe he doesn’t do everything he dreams of doing but he does become a Jedi. And you said you got abilities after you dreamed about them? So in all reality, or hell whatever twisted, insane version of reality we’re living in, we’re meeting because I might start developing Jedi powers, beyond what the kid already has.” he paused a moment to let that sink in but then another thought occurred to him. “If he goes with you then he spends more time with Padme, right?”
Obi-Wan massaged his temple. In addition to the emotional stress of the situation, there was the constant push and pull of the Force between them. Every time Anakin flared up, it was like a surge of heat in the room. It was difficult for the Jedi to maintain his focus. Especially when Padme was mentioned.
“You keep on referring to him as he. He’s you, Anakin. Why do you refuse…” Obi-Wan caught himself. He swallowed. “You do understand that, don’t you? That world is real. These really aren’t dreams. They’re memories.”
His brows went straight up at that, “Yeah, um, no. No. No. That doesn’t make any sort of logical sense. I’m sorry, but that’s… That can’t be right.” it was about as far fetched as them all sharing in the same dreams, though he figured he could have found a more scientific explanation for that. But memories from a past life? Anything spiritual, new-agey or supernatural just didn’t fit into his world view, not that he was completely set against it, he would change his mind if presented with evidence but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be done with a great deal of reluctance.
“Unless you mean some sort of quantum theory mirror reality has crashed into ours, like a tear in the fabric of space and time and dimension.” he did add after a minute or two of thinking about it. It wasn’t much different really, he simply preferred it because it was unlikely to be something a TV psychic would ever try to use to bullshit their way into more money. At least he was somewhat aware of his prejudice, it was a start. “Okay, so maybe that’s just as silly sounding but come on, you’ve got to be shitting me.”
Obi-Wan’s head was still gently throbbing, but he unexpectedly found himself fighting the impulse to laugh. Qui-Gon had often said that he hoped the universe rewarded Obi-Wan with a padawan as stubborn as he had been. And it had. “I assure you I am not shitting you,” he said, lifting his glass again. “Well, what you think about the fact that we’re having the same dreams? And Padme, too. Two might be a coincidence, but three?”
“There are around seven billion people on this planet right? It’s not that odd that a few people would have the same dreams, it’s even less odd when they live relatively close together and are likely exposed to the same sorts of media, environmental factors and so on.” But even he knew he was pushing it now. “Yeah, fine, I’ll grant you that it’s weird. Maybe even inexplicable if you wanted to come at it logically. And, you know, I can’t come up with a better explanation right now and probably won’t be able to, it’s just… I don’t know. I’d really like to hang on to what little sanity I have left, is that really such a big thing to ask? I really need a drink.”
He took a moment to consider everything and made a decision. He decided he was just going to ignore whatever part of it made his brain hurt for the time being. “So how do you live with it?”
“Then let’s get you a drink…” Obi-Wan said, signaling for a server.
Truthfully, he only knew how to come at it logically. Qui-Gon had often told him that he had a brain like a computer, and he knew it wasn’t always a compliment. At the moment, Anakin was trying his patience. It was nothing new. In fact, it mildly amused him. So many times he had wanted Anakin to take him at his word and leave it at that. It had never gotten him, or them, very far.
“How do I keep sane?” Obi-Wan continued. “I work a lot. I’m a carpenter. I have a few close friends I can trust. A girlfriend. The same way we all try to keep sane. I surround myself with good things.”
He nodded slowly, taking in what Obi-wan was saying while also trying to come to terms with the fact that these dreams weren’t likely to stop any time soon. He wondered if there was some sort of sleep-aid might help. He hadn’t dreamed while his arm was being amputated or when they were putting the grafts over his burns, maybe if he numbed himself enough he wouldn’t dream, but that was problematic as he still had to get up and go to work in the mornings. “Work helps,” he agreed, even if the look of some of the ships in his dreams had found their way into the prototype designs already. “So does talking to Padme, though she’s been pretty quiet since our run.”
He would have to text her again later, maybe after he was finished with Obi-wan, it felt too long since they talked last. “I’m sorry, I’m sure I’m being a pain in the ass here but it’s a lot to adjust to. I’m not saying I believe these are actually memories from some sort of past life or whatever, but I get that it’s going to be whatever it is, not whatever I try to label it.”
Obi-Wan hoped Padme’s silence had at least a little to do with his warning, though he knew there was little hope of influencing her very much. The girl had the strongest will of any person he had ever met. “You’re not being a pain in the ass. Not much of one, at any rate. This is all… well, it’s not something that takes to labels, I’ll say that.”
He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together to form a thin line. In the meantime, a server arrived to take Anakin’s drink order. Obi-Wan waited for her to walk away before speaking again. “What is it you do, Anakin? For a living.”
There was a quick and quiet ‘thank you’ to the waitress before he looked back to Obi-wan again. “I’m an aeronautical engineer. Right now I’m working over at Boeing mechanical system and design analysis.” he paused to take a drink then continued. “I was in the Air Force for a while though, until my accident that is.” he lifted his right hand confirming what Obi-wan had likely suspected from their handshake. “You’d think with as hard a time as they’re having finding talented pilots they would have kept me on, the artificial hand doesn’t slow me down at all when it comes to flying.”
Maybe he was a little more bitter about that than he usually let on, but being an air force pilot had been his dream since he was a little kid. “Anyway, it’s mostly idea work, mainly working with drafting and design software. Sometimes I think I might feel better if I did more hands on work,” he didn’t need to correct himself but he did anyway. “Hand on work.”
Of course he was an aeronautical engineer, although Obi-Wan was sure he wouldn’t have guessed something so specialized. He smirked ever so slightly as he lifted his glass for a drink. Lowing it, he cleared his throat. “What happened?” he asked, gesturing to the false hand.
Anakin’s posture changed as he took another drink, his brow set hard for a moment, he couldn’t have been more clear that he didn’t want to talk about it if he had written it in fifty foot flashing neon letters above his head. He cleared his throat, “Non-combat incident, is what they called it. There was an issue with one of the fighters, the sump malfunctioned, started a fire. I was helping my CO to safety when it exploded, trapped my arm under some burning debris but they got me out before the fire got any further than my shoulder. Everything below the elbow was damaged too badly so it was amputated.”
He didn’t want to linger so he pushed on to the artificial hand, “The senator who sponsored me in the Academy paid for the building of this thing,” he moved his right arm to toward his drink, the wrist already turning thanks to the sensors against what was left of that arm. After pressing a pair of sub-dermal buttons on the back of the hand the fingers closed around the bottle and he was able to lift it and take a drink. Obi-wan might have heard the whirring of the internal machinery but the outer skin muffled it a great deal. “It’s made of carbon fiber so it’s light enough that sometimes I forget it isn’t real. Most people don’t even notice it.”
Obi-Wan looked to the side. The dim lighting in the room mostly hid the fact that he’d also gone more than slightly pale. How Anakin had lost that limb in another world was no mystery to him, but more importantly, neither were the other three. In fact, he felt sick to think about it, now--whether or not it was justified. He didn’t much care at the moment.
“It’s very impressive,” he said, forcing his eyes back to the man across the table. “You’re very… fortunate to have it.” Always logical.
“Yeah, I don’t think I would have been able to afford something like this on my own, the senator has always been very kind to me, though I think my refusal to take a position on his staff may have upset him. Hardly matters though, I try to avoid politics and I would have been miserable in Washington.” Not that it wouldn’t have paid well, which meant a lot to someone like Anakin who had very little when he was growing up, but job satisfaction mattered even more and his first love had always been aircraft. “Padme seems to know him too, or her father does, weird how small the world can be sometimes.”
He took another drink, “So you seem to have this all under some semblance of control, would you mind if I kept in touch? Just incase things get worse. It would be nice to hear someone else say that I’m not insane once in a while, especially if the dreams get weirder.”
For whatever reason, talk of the senator went over Obi-Wan’s head for the time being. Perhaps his focus was too much on other things and perhaps he would think more about it later on. Palpatine was better known to him as Chancellor and Emperor...
“By all means. And I’d be very interested to know when I finally show up, as it were.”
Lifting his glass for the final time, he swirled the last few drops of whiskey before downing them. He hadn’t had been drinking much since meeting Faiza, but right now, he was grateful that it had gotten him through what was, for him, an gritty conversation. Obi-Wan wouldn’t rule out stopping at a different bar on the way home, alone, to decompress.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it. I would talk to Padme but I think she’s still a little uncomfortable with nine year old me being so intense over her while me me, I, whatever the right term is, is also interested in her. I can’t really blame her, a nine year old looking you in the eye and announcing that he’s going to marry you can be hard to deal with when he suddenly shows up in his early twenties and starts flirting.” It was a wonder she was comfortable seeing him at all, maybe she wasn’t, which would explain why they hadn’t talked in a while.
“Anyway, thanks. I think you’ve made me feel better about this, we’ll have to see how I am with the rest of my dreams. I brought some work home with me that I need to get to before Monday so I think I’m going to head out,” he said as he slid from his seat and got to his feet, extending a hand to Obi-wan in farewell, “It was good to meet you, if we’re lucky you won’t hear from me for a while.”