#timeline: rebels

Something felt wrong. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch all day. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to find someone watching him but each time no one was there. Biggs had caught on during their club meeting after school. Camie had brought her older brother's speeder for them to all oggle. Usually, Luke would be right there, unable to contain his childish excitement at such a rare chance. Instead, he hanged back, watching them all take turns jumping into the cockpit while Camie yelled at them to not break anything.

"What's wrong?" Biggs had asked, sitting beside Luke on a crate. Luke shrugged, unable to answer and just said, "I'm just tired. Are you going to come over today?"

He'd wanted Biggs to come so he didn't have to walk home alone. But Biggs had chores to take care of, and Luke didn't want to admit he was scared of shadows. Biggs was two years older than Luke, and he'd die of embarrassment. Which was how Luke ended up with that same constricting feeling in his chest halfway home. Another glance over his shoulder, another empty space. Shaking himself off with a huff, Luke hiked his backpack further up his shoulders and picked up the pace.

He felt stupid when he reached the front door safe and sound. No one but the usual neighbors around. No one peeking out to watch him knock on the door before unlocking it. Too bad the feeling wouldn't go away.

@desireandduty

She's the last person he ever wanted to see again for all the rational reasons. While he had slowly, slowly healed his broken body, there was a feeling so strong that told him Padme was alive. The Force had done as it always did and told him secrets he shouldn't be aware. Sidious had said she was dead and in his weakened, miserable state he had believed him.

It was one of the many reasons why Anakin had found the broken, shattered pieces of himself and tried to glue them all together again. That didn't mean he wanted to follow the ever present pull of Padme's presence, somewhere out there. He had wanted to die. Let her believe he was still the villain. He had left her to die, just as Obi-Wan had left him to die.

It was only right that she needn't ever be forced to look upon him again.

"I don't deserve that privilege." Anakin said voice raspy from injury and disuse. His gaze flicked from the work he was doing on PROXY to Padme's seated form. His movements were sloppy, now, where they had been fluid just a half hour before. Exhaustion and pain weighed down his limbs and made his fingers sluggish.

If it wasn't for his ship's malfunction, Anakin wouldn't even be here.

He leaned forward, tangled hair falling into his scarred face even as he swiped it back. It's longer than he ever had it, even in spite of the burning that had scarred up the left side of his head. His brows furrowed as he fiddled with a faulty wire.

Anakin has learned enough over the years that he knows this is more than just a dream. Tatooine's sands stretch out far in front of him. Behind him is a solitary hovel, one he knew every inch of by heart. If he walked inside, he would know every room. The kitchen where he spent some of his mornings, most of his evenings. The bedroom where he spent his limited free time tinkering. It had been simple back then. Uncomplicated. A harsh life, but one that was contained.

                     “I don’t understand you.” 

           It had been weeks. Anakin had gone without much of a goodbye to be said. For whatever reason, he had found his way back. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, if anything at all. He didn’t want Obi-Wan’s forgiveness. It didn’t mean anything. Anakin would still spend sleepless nights thinking about every little thing he’d ever done wrong. It was that reason, he thought, that he came back to the place Obi-Wan stayed. Uninvited, and he didn’t care. There was very little Obi-Wan could do to stop him.

           The news stirred up a maelstrom of emotions that were not easily put to rest. Anakin had been playing spy games at an Imperial base, trying to secure information for the rebellion. The news reached him late enough that there was nothing he could do about it. He’d felt the shock wave that was Alderaan’s destruction--how could he not? Someone as connected to the Force as he was wouldn’t miss that many lives extinguished in an instant. But there was little he could do about it while sabotaging a communications array. 

           Finding out the exact planet that had been destroyed had flipped a switch he didn’t realize was still there. Fifteen years and the Dark Side was still a siren call so close he almost reached out and touched it. By the time his ship reached Yavin 4, he had already been appraised of the situation. Leia was alive--the details a secondary thought. It took everything in him to restrain the anger that wasn’t so easily abated. The anxiety, the fear. He thought he’d gotten better at this. 

            It didn’t help that their relationship was strained. He didn’t know if his presence would be accepted or not, but in the end he didn’t care. It didn’t take him long to locate her, and he knew she felt his arrival. Hard not to when he could barely contain his emotions behind his carefully erected mental shields.