He and Anakin met in the middle of the deserted street. During their years as Master and Padawan he’d done his best to break Anakin’s childish dependence on demonstrations of affection. He’d failed. And now, full of relief, he found himself reaching out to clasp his former student’s shoulder.
that’s not a demonstration of affection you repressed attached in-denial twat
“If anyone can, you can,” said Anakin. And because he was Anakin, and so tired, and had only ever pretended to learn that lesson of distance, gave [Obi-Wan] a swift embrace.
now that’s a demonstration of affection
(Clone Wars Gambit: Siege by Karen Miller)
He [Obi-Wan] still couldn’t believe Anakin had been so reckless. Or was he just being willfully blind? Anakin had always pushed far beyond what sensible people considered the bounds of safety. Of sanity. It was a kind of untamed genius. Qui-Gon had seen it. Had gambled on it, all those years ago on Tatooine. Had chanced many lives on the outcome of a Podrace, risking their futures on the untrained, untested skills of a slave boy.
And he’d been right.
Ten years of rigorous training later, it seemed the genius still wasn’t completely tamed. Would never be tamed. Anakin continued to defy logic, ignore protocol, trample underfoot the rules he was meant to follow. Confident, always, that he would prevail. Confident his former Master would have his back.
And I did. I still do.
And there—a broken citibike. Beside it, a broken Jedi.
Obi-Wan! A citibike? What were you thinking?
Anakin dropped his airspeeder to the rooftop as though it were a brick. Force-leapt from the driver’s seat to land kneeling by his former Master’s side.
“Obi-Wan! It’s me. It’s Anakin. Don’t move.”
So much blood. Too much blood. Jedi weren’t immortal. Qui-Gon had told him that, then died to prove it.
Lying in a crumpled heap, awkwardly twisted, half on his side, Obi-Wan blinked slowly. His eyes were clouded, unfocused. His right cheek was deeply split along the bone. “Anakin …?”
Anakin leaned closer, too afraid to touch Obi-Wan’s burned, bloodstained hand. “Don’t talk. I’m going to call for help, okay?”
“I’m right here,” he said, even as he stood and backed away to the airspeeder for his comlink. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan, I’m right here.”
Obi-Wan groaned. “Blast. I think I’m hurt.”
—Wild Space by Karen Miller
- That mention of Qui-Gon was rude and extremely uncalled for, wow.
- Obi-Wan’s just fallen who knows how far after getting caught in an explosion and hit by a bus and his only reaction is “Blast. I think I’m hurt.” That is so Obi-Wan but also. Obi-Wan please.
I think it also bears mentioning that in the scene immediately preceding this one, Anakin was
doing his level best to shirk his duties and thus not have to leave leaving Padme’s apartment after spending the night there. And the SECOND he feels this happening, his entire focus reorients on Obi-Wan and his desperate need to find him because he senses that Obi-Wan is hurt.
I CAN’T WITH THEM.