#post-deception arc

Standing outside the door of Obi-Wan's room in the small medical wing of the Palace of Naboo, Anakin released a deep breath.

It had been…a weird week, to put it lightly.

Last night, Obi-Wan had undergone a transformation procedure to revert his features from his Rako Hardeen disguise (which Anakin still found very hard to think about) back to Obi-Wan Kenobi again.

He had spoken to Obi-Wan briefly the day before for the first time since finding out that his former Master was in fact actually alive, though that was still the weird Rako Hardeen Obi-Wan, and that conversation had led to an argument where Anakin had stormed off. He had again seen the older man later that previous evening after the fight with Dooku, but their exchange had been once again very brief, only consisting of a few short words before Obi-Wan had been whisked away to the transformation chamber.

But right now, this was going to be the first time Anakin would be seeing Obi-Wan as his normal self since his former Master's feigned "death" in that Coruscant street, where Anakin had held Obi-Wan's lifeless body in his arms. The first time he'd be hearing his former Master's normal voice again since the last words he remembered hearing Obi-Wan speak only minutes before he was shot: "I'm going after him."

The air was eerily cool as Anakin found himself running through the dim, floodlit Coruscant streets towards the area where he had left his Padawan to check on Obi-Wan after the Jedi had fallen a minute earlier.

"How is he?" he asked, heaving a breath as he finally reached their position, where the togruta was sitting on the ground in the clearing of the street in front of a mess of cargo boxes, holding Master Kenobi limply across her lap. Ahsoka was cradling Obi-Wan's head in her hands and Anakin could see that the older Jedi was unconscious. Anxiety pulsed through his veins as he processed the scene.

When Obi-Wan had fallen, Anakin had felt Obi-Wan's presence in the force flicker oddly. And when he tried to reach for it again now, he sensed…

No.

Anakin's heart thumped in his chest.

Watching as Ahsoka turned her head to look up at him, a pained expression displayed on her face as she wordlessly met his gaze, crippling realisation dawned on Anakin as he saw the unshed tears welling in Ahsoka's eyes. His stomach dropped, heart skipping a beat.

"Obi-Wan?" he said in disbelief, moving forward, dropping to his knees in front of his Master's body. He reached for Obi-Wan's shoulders.

"Obi-Wan?" he repeated, a little more panicked, shaking him this time. He needed Obi-Wan to wake up, open his eyes—he was just unconscious, he wasn't—he couldn't be—

But, beneath his hands, within the force, Anakin realised that he couldn't feel a heartbeat.

No.

His eyes widened as the reality of the situation hit him. Obi-Wan wasn't breathing. He didn't have a pulse. Their bond in the force was—

No.

Anakin shook him again. As if that would shock his Master back to life. Will his heart to beat. Force his lungs to contract.

"OBI-WAN!" he shouted this time, hearing his voice echo through the street. He didn't care about all of the eyes he could sense watching them. He shook Obi-Wan's body again. Kept Shaking him.

No. This couldn't be happening. How could Obi-Wan be dead?

Master? he tried fruitlessly yelling down their bond in the force, only to be met by a blank wall where Obi-Wan's side of the bond had been. He furiously shook his head in disbelief.

Obi-Wan… he cried out in the force. Obi-Wan, come back… don't leave me like this, Master…

Lifting Obi-Wan's lifeless body to his chest, Anakin clutched his Master's corpse as he felt his heart rip from his body…

Anakin shut his eyes for a moment as his heart clenched at the memory, a wave of confusing feelings swirling in his chest. He willed the memory away. Opening his eyes again, he lifted his hand.

With another breath, he finally mustered up enough courage to wave open the door. The door quietly swooshed open. He stepped inside.

Anakin wasn't sure what he had been expecting to see. But when he took a few steps into the room, he paused for a moment, taking in the image of the older man's form sitting up on the bed. Obi-Wan Kenobi. His Master.

The real him.

This is different, he repeated to himself when he laid back on the medical table. There will be no theatrical falls or fake funerals. Anakin probably… hopefully… never find out this ever happened.

The large needles that pressed into his head stung far worse than the last time. Obi-Wan’s eyes screwed shut as the facial transformation program initiated.

You’re still lying to him, though.

As far as his former padawan knew, Obi-Wan was deployed in the Outer Rim. He even sent a message that his comms would be limited due to interference from the planet’s atmosphere. That technically was the case with his flagship and the men aboard.

Technically.

There were lots of technicalities these days. Obi-Wan was getting rather tired of them.

Droid casualties were technically not loss of lives.

Jedi were technically trained for battle situations.

Obi-Wan was technically not breaking his promise to Anakin that he wouldn’t lie to him again.

Yet, here he is. One room over from where he was born again as Rako Hardeen the last time he was asked to perform a mission that was technically for the good of the galaxy. Obi-Wan had to be the one to undergo the procedure because he was technically the only one who could play the part accurately.

The machines finally stopped whirring and the pressure subsided. Obi-Wan remained lying back with his eyes shut until the throbbing of his head started to reduce.

What-ifs were already flooding his head. What if…

…the chancellor figures it out?

…the 501st is deployed with the 212th?

…I truly am killed on this mission?

…Anakin finds out?

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, finally inching his eyes open to adjust to the fluorescent overhead lamps. A medical droid hummed with satisfaction and then handed him a mirror.

“Facial transformation is complete. I will be right back with the voice modulator, Master Kenobi,” the droid said and buzzed away.

Obi-Wan held the mirror's reflective side down for a long moment. His stomach turned just thinking about the face he would see staring back at him. Every ounce of the Jedi wanted to call the council and tell him he couldn’t do this. As much as he tried to convince himself the reward was greater than the risk, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure anything was worth the pain it would bring to Anakin and the irreparable damage it would do to their already-strained bond.

I’ve allowed this to go too far. Even if Obi-Wan wanted to stop things, he knew too many pieces were in motion. Now, it truly was more dangerous for him to bail than to go through with the mission.

Chancellor Palpatine had been raising too many red flags with the Jedi Council. They needed more intel on his movements, but there were very few close enough to the ruler that would be willing to report on his private matters. The council suggested asking Anakin, but Obi-Wan quickly shut down their request. Anakin was fiercely loyal to those he cared about— the Chancellor was one of those lucky people.

Obi-Wan slowly turned the mirror around. The clean-shaven face that gradually came into view was horrifically familiar in a way that felt like a saber to the gut. Obi-Wan’s fingers quivered as they traced down the vertical scar that nearly took his right eye.

Forgive me, padawan.

Anakin himself would never betray the Chancellor.

“And he just goes right back to work?” Anakin snarls with a vague gesture across the bridge, to where General Kenobi is speaking with Cody and Wooley, and Maker, does the General look young. He had been reluctant to waste time on cosmetic corrections, and had only allowed the Jedi healers to give him some of his hair back; for better or for worse, he's letting the beard grow back naturally. 

  If the absurd amount of cooing that had happened at the Temple is anything to go by, many of the Jedi miss Kenobi’s baby-face, that he had supposedly covered with a beard as soon as he'd taken Anakin on as his apprentice. When Kenobi had given his first debrief after the Jedi had fixed his features back into his own, Echo had panicked and called him “cadet” in front of three different battalions, and the 501st is never going to let him forget it.

  Anakin had not laughed.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” Rex says carefully, turning back to the datapad in his hand to look over the command roster for their coming deployment. “General Kenobi’s injuries from the mission were superficial, he’ll be fully healed before we even make it to the Mid-Rim.”

  Scoffing, Anakin continues to glare at his former master. “You can’t tell me you’re not angry, Rex,” he says, and leans against the console behind him.

  Ahsoka had warned him that his general clearly wasn't over Kenobi’s supposed betrayal, and Rex is Mando enough to admit he’s been avoiding this conversation; he won’t lie to Anakin, no, they’ve been through far too much together for that, but no matter how close they are, their friendship would not save him from Anakin’s wrath.

  So he pretends to be reading the roster for another long moment, wishing he had Kote’s diplomacy. “I am not, sir, just as I was not angry when Kix feigned desertion for the mission on Odos II.” Glancing up, he’s relieved to see Anakin isn’t glaring at him yet, but if Ahsoka hadn’t been able to talk him down, Rex doesn’t stand a chance. “The Supreme Chancellor's life being at stake is no small matter, the High Generals had many factors to consider, including that Count Dooku would be watching you closely in the wake of General Kenobi’s death.”

  “Are you saying I can’t act?”

  “I’m saying that if Count Dooku thought for even a moment you were faking it, the whole mission would have been in jeopardy. Sir.”

  He doesn’t need to know banthashit about the Force to feel it when Anakin goes from simmering to incensed, not with the way Anakin warps the air between them, saturating it with his rage until General Kenobi sends them a concerned frown across the bridge. Anakin doesn’t seem to notice, glare fixed on Rex, and this really isn’t how he would have expected them to fall out. 

  Or that they'd have to fall out at all.

  The tragedy of the thought makes Rex bold, meeting Anakin’s rage with a calm and confidence stolen from far stronger men. “You were not the only one made to believe in the General’s death, you forget there are others who care for him as deeply as you do.” Kote, he doesn’t say, Vos and Ahsoka and the Duchess, Wupi and Choke and Boil. “I perhaps would not include myself in that count, but should you not put aside your anger and be relieved that the General was not actually murdered?” Kote catches his eye and taps at his wrist guard, his concern obvious as he asks Rex in didi if he’s alright, and Rex will gladly take the unintentional out his brother has given him. “Just something to think about, sir. Here is the adjusted command roster, Captain Sage was transferred to the Coruscant Guard following his injury during the campaign on Aslo. Excuse me, sir, Commander Cody seems to have a question for me.” He hands the datapad to Anakin, who is miraculously too stunned not to take it, before Rex moves quickly across the bridge. 

-

  Ahsoka sits gingerly across from Rex in the almost-empty mess, murmuring,  “I take it the talk didn’t go well.”

  He snorts into his cup of caf. “From a certain point of view, it went better than expected.”

  Wincing, Ahsoka rubs her own arms and casts her eyes down to the table. “I tried asking him about it before we left Coruscant, I’ve never seen him so angry, not even at the funeral.”

  Rex is used to being the little brother, of both his batchmates and the CC track, and this is one of the times where he laments that: when he doesn’t quite know how to comfort the way his brothers comforted him. “If I may, sir,” he says, quiet enough that the few vode at the table across the room won’t hear, “are you not angry with General Kenobi?”

  “No?” She chews her bottom lip. “I mean, yes, I mean– I’m happy he’s alive. It hurt, being kept out of the loop, but it’s not as if I was singled out for that, right? And I... I understand why he did it, why it had to be done and why it played out like it did, but it still hurt. But I’m also so relieved that Master Obi-Wan is alive, that I don’t think my hurt matters.”

  “And General Skywalker hasn’t come to that conclusion yet.”

  She shakes her head. “How... How has Cody taken it?”

  “I think he’s more angry that he was forced to miss the funeral than Kenobi faking his death." Rex isn't sure where Kote and Kenobi stand now, they had been heading towards a collision before this Hardeen fiasco, and he doesn't know where they've landed. Brothers? Lovers? Whatever the hell Echo and Fives are? He hadn't been able to ask before the 212th and the 501st split ways. "It was for a mission, wasn't it? We're soldiers, Commander Tano, we're born with 'Mission First' imprinted on our brains."

  Ahsoka giggles at the mental image, and Rex is relieved to see her shoulders relax. "All the padawans expected Knight Vos to react the worst," she says, crossing her arms on the table. "He grew up with Master Obi-Wan, you know? But he just... accepted it, he simply understood and... Letting go is part of being a Jedi. Knowing when you can't change things, and accepting failures, and understanding no matter the circumstances."

  It would certainly not be the first time Anakin has stumbled on the Jedi path. 

  "General Vos was a Shadow, no?" Rex asks, considering his watery caf and wishing he knew how to approach his general about any of this. "He would empathise most, wouldn't he?"

  "I suppose you're right," she says, bouncing her legs. "How have the others been? Echo and Jesse and them?"

  "They're most disturbed by Kenobi’s face, to be honest."

  Choking on a laugh, Ahsoka reaches across the table to steal an unused sucrose packet from Rex's tray. "I did hear something about Echo and cadets," she admits. "Oh no, how did Kix react?"

  Rex smirks at the memory. "He really does like Kenobi’s hair, doesn't he?"

  "He must have been devastated!"

  "I think he tried to get the General to let him shave designs in the undercut."

  "I suddenly know what I'm doing for the next Disaster Lineage prank war."

 Rex winces, remembering the last prank war and how long it had taken Anakin to stop smelling like hot sauce. "Jesse's the best with the razors," he says blandly, mourning his now-empty cup and the broken caf machine in the kitchen, "and will work for extra shower tokens."

-

is this what you wanted, fiori?? 1,400 words about obi-wan without obi-wan in it for more than two seconds???

Mando’a: didi — a Clone-dialect specific form of dadita, a Mandalorian nonverbal communication similar to morse code. i think the clones would have a modified version of dadita that utilised placement of fingers on their arm as well as the actual taps, for quicker communication in close quarters, so in this case, didi is short for gadi dadita, “wrist dadita”. They would use this alongside standard military hand signals!

No noo nonono.

It was panic, and fear. Release them. Come on, every Jedi can do it. Pathetic…

Obi-wan slipped into a light meditation. His emotions were controlling him, keeping them from doing his duty. If he could just let go…

He went to war with the demons.

They were determined to beat him into submission. And he was so tired.

Obi-wan’s body lay in the Halls of Healing, seemingly in a peaceful sleep. He didn’t stir. He didn’t notice the two familiar Force signatures in his doorway until one of them cleared their throats.

“Obi-wan?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Anakin?”

“It’s us, Master Kenobi,” a younger female voice chimed in.