#don'tleaveme

prompt: “Don’t leave me.”

ao3

follow up to day 7 and sandstorm

The sandstorms have been howling outside him and his mother's hut for as long as he can remember.  

Years ago, he remembers, he used to question it. Used to feel as if the winds were trying to tell him something. They felt like whispers, carrying weighty messages from above, trying to catch his attention. They were draining, too. Impossibly draining. As if they were stealing away his life's force with every whistling gale.

He's gotten used to them, now. His mother (who he still feels an ache in his chest when he sees, even though he can't remember why) is fond of reminding him that it's natural for the early winds of a sand storm to mess with their heads. That's just how Tatooine is.

Strange that he'd forgotten.

It's night, now, and he can feel in his bones that the winds outside will soon pick up. The storm hasn't started yet, but he's aching and exhausted in that way that can only mean one thing. The sands won't be still for much longer.

His mother isn't back yet. It's worrying.

He's tired. So tired. He lets himself sink to the ground; his metal hand clatters as it hits the wall.

Anakin squints at it. Something niggles at the back of his mind—something he should know, something he should remember—but suddenly the winds have started howling and he shoots up. Mom.

He wrenches open the door and shouts into the street. "Mom?" Anakin stumbles into the street. His ache has started up again and it's miserable—they've never quite figured out why the sandstorms cause him so much pain—but he can't let his mother get caught in the storm. He has to find her.

His knees buckle and he catches himself against the wall, hissing a Huttese curse when it sends a spasm up his arm. He doesn't have time for this. He has to find her.

He hears footsteps. He lifts his head only to find that his vision has blurred over. His head is swimming.

"Oh, Ani," he hears and he sags in relief.

"Mom. I was worried."

"You know I can take care of myself, Anakin," Shmi says, placing his arm around her shoulders to help him up. "You could have hurt yourself. You know how you get before the storms."

"I was worried," he says again, but concedes. Her presence is a blessed relief, a balm to his pain.

"Come on," she says, propping him up and letting him lean. "Let's get you inside."

Once inside, she herds him towards the cot, despite his protests. "I can help," he insists, over and over again. "I'll be fine."

"Shhh," Shmi says, brushing his hair out of his face. He leans into the touch. "I know you're tired, Anakin. Just rest." She smiles gently. "Rest. It will be alright."

Before he knows it, he's drifted off.

*

Anakin's eyes snap open to a deep-seated feeling of wrongness in his gut. The ache has passed, but there's a new one in its place—one that isn't physical.

He shoves himself up off the bed and stumbles towards the other rooms. He finds his mother by the couch. She's—hazy. Hazy. How can that be?

"Mom?" he asks quietly.

Her gaze snaps up to his. It's terrified. "Anakin," she says, "Anakin, I—"

She gasps as she catches sight of something behind him. He turns—

Everything is hazy. His mother, his room, their home—it's fading. And fast.

Shmi exhales shakily, and he turns to find that she's vanishing.

"Mom," he croaks, "Mom, no, please don't leave me—"

He closes his eyes and reaches out with the force, yanking to keep their reality intact even as it splinters before his eyes.

Anakin.

He ignores the voice. 

Anakin, please, you must let us—

He shoves the other presence out with all his might. He blinks his eyes open only to see their little hut torn in two, the cracks showing not the Tatooine sands but a yawning darkness that's slowly swallowing everything whole. Everything—the walls, the floors, his mother—everything but him.

"Ani," Shmi gasps. She trembles. Her hands are melting away before his eyes. "Ani, help, please."

He rushes to her side.

It isn't real, Anakin, please—

"It'll be alright, Mom," he says, shoving back his fear. "I'd never leave you." The words feel poisonous on his tongue, but she smiles all the same; a smile of relief and endless love. He closes his eyes and tries to sense her, to heal her—

His eyes snap open.

"Mom," he whispers, "I can't feel you." It's like—there's nothing there. Just the same empty, howling darkness slowly eating everything else away as it advances. 

She grabs at him desperately. Her arms pass through him like they're not even there.

"I need you," she begs, "Ani, please, you must stay."

"Of course I will," he whispers, "Of course I'll stay."

Her eyes harden. She looks around—at the darkness, the rug beneath them that's all that's left of their hut, the starless skies above—and steps back.

"No, you won't." Her voice is heavy with disappointment and it aches so terribly she may as well have stabbed him.

Shmi Skywalker fades away.

*

Obi-wan pressed his hand against the burn wound on his side. He’d had worse, but the timing was far from convenient.

“Mas… terrr,” Anakin slurred. The boy—young man—was weaving on his feet.

Obi-wan looped one of Anakin’s arms over his shoulders, trying to support the younger Jedi.

“No.” Anakin pushed him away. “Nee’ ta do it m’self.”

“We need to go,” Obi-wan reminded him. “Are you certain you’ll be able to—”

There was a noise in the hall. Seconds later, two aqualish barreled around the corner. Obi-wan met them at the door, lightsaber blazing. Two whirling cuts, and the mercenaries’ weapons were unfunctional. He Force pushed them backwards, rendering them unconscious.

Checking that no one else was coming down the hall, Obi-wan ducked back inside the small room. The smell of ozone was strong. Everything had gone quiet. And Anakin was in a heap on the floor.

Obi-wan knelt beside him. “Anakin?”

There was no response. Releasing a breath eased the spike of anxiety and clarified his thoughts. He checked Anakin’s pulse. It was steady and strong, Obi-wan breathed out half a sigh, but it was all he could manage until he also checked the bleeding wound on the back to the young man’s skull. Only then did he feel real relief.

“It is a good thing you have a thick skull, my young padawan,” he murmured. He grunted slightly as he lifted Anakin across his shoulders. The boy was seventeen, almost a young man, but he was still slight of frame and had not yet broadened in the shoulders and chest. Still, as a dead weight, he was enough to make Obi-wan draw on the Force for extra strength.

Obi-wan jogged down the hall. The incident had escalated beyond what they had been authorized for. A quick call to the Council would change that, but he needed to do it from a secure line. Then they could re-negotiate…

Anakin’s arm twitched. Obi-wan immediately paused and lowered his padawan to the ground, cushioning the young man’s head.

“Anakin? Can you hear me?”

The young man’s eyelashes fluttered and he gave a low groan. “Don’… don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here,” Obi-wan said.

“Don’t leave me,” Anakin mumbled again.

Obi-wan bit his lip, flipping the young man’s long braid away from his face. Did Anakin really think he would just be left there? That Obi-wan would just walk away from him because his padawan made a mistake?

I fell in love, and I mean that in the most literal sense. 

As time went I couldn’t imagine my life without that man and it scared me, so I let him go. After 2 days I missed him, my life was so bright things I found boring were finally the highlight of my life I felt good about myself and everything around me with him, but now nothing. 

So I did the logical thing, I texted him and he came back. I have never met someone like him someone I never got tired of listening too, someone I would eat cereal on the couch and talk about everything that happened in all the time of my life when he wasn’t there. 

As guessed I fell more in love, months went on and everyday I fell harder and harder. He loved me, and I loved him. 

We ending up breaking up, and it was the saddest most awful moment I have ever experienced. 

After living for together so long it wasn’t normal not to see each other so we met up to grab a coffee. I didn’t make it out of the car, I saw him and I felt everything all over again. 

“I’m sorry” he looked over at me. 

“For what?” I respond tears already filling my eyes. 

“You loved me more than I ever been loved. You care about me, and I’ve never had that. I’ve never had you.” 

I start crying not knowing what to say, all I could think was why did you leave me than. I got sick I couldn’t eat or sleep without him. As crazy as that sounds he was my safe place, he gave me this sense of comfort and home that I’ve ever experienced. 

“It’s okay.” I said between sobbing and blowing my nose. 

I went home that night and realized it really was okay. He taught me what love was, he showed me all the beautiful things, the ugly things, and everything in between. I realized I am worth loving through all things, that even the things I hate about myself are so beautiful to others, that sometimes it’s worth the risk. 

Sorry... I’m afraid, you could leave me... 

you don’t know me.