Current mood:	productive!
Current music:	Imogen Heap, "Clear the Area"

In the interests of thoroughly embarassing shoiryu... Again!
Once upon a time, two Star Wars fangirls wondered what would happen if half of Team Kenobi had died during the duration of the Clone Wars.

Given the glorious potential for entertainment this possibility had, the girls devoted one night of writing to the death of Anakin Skywalker and a later date to the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Since one of the girls magically managed to close the AIM window DAMMIT ARGH halfway through Skywalker's death, she has since decided that this is further proof of the Chosen One's near-immortality and thusly presents the Most Honorable and Senseless Death of Obi-Wan Kenobi (as he is not near-immortal, just incredibly badass) for your perusal first.

In addition, senseless fangirl planning:

Eru: (:D I LOVE YOU, TOO.)
Shoi: (*SNUGGLEPURR* DEATH TO OBI-WAN)
Eru: (*L* I haven't decided how yet.)
Shoi: (*L* He'll just melt spontaniously.)
Shoi: (There'll need to be a body for Anakin to angst over, at least.)
Eru: (XD Yes. Yes, indeed. Maybe I can have him- Oooooo.)
Shoi: (ooooh?)
Eru: (CRUSHED UNDER CARRIER PARTS.)
Shoi: (SDFASDGh OH GOD)
Eru: (Like, the lower half of him is smashed, but he's still able to talk. And the ash cover is getting higher and higher.)
Shoi: (Oh GOD.)
Eru: (:D Mama like.)

And shoiryu's Anakin muse was in a broken mournful state for the rest of the night. The End.

Oh wait, you wanted to read this, didn't you?
Here's the story itself, in its happily raw, unedited, straight-from-the-AIM window form. Admire our typos, the ridiculous craziness of pronouns, our angsty awesomeness when doing terrible things to those we love, and above all, shoiryu's magnificent Anakin.



Today was a bad day.
Or rather, yesterday had been a bad day, and the wee hours of this day seemed all too eager to take up yesterday's nasty tradition.
Obi-Wan deflected another bolt with the blade of his lightsaber before rolling into a crouch behind the uneasy safety of a hissing boulder. He wiped away a sooty clump from his cheek, the back of his hand gaining yet another ashy smear. The rain hadn't stopped yet, and it only served to make the battleground dirtier, the mountain-spewed ash turning to clinging sludge upon boots, in hair, and within weapons.
The only good thing about Mt. Krotuvis's dry eruption was that the droids were suffering even more than the Republic troops.
Absently wiping the handle of his lightsaber clean with a grainy (and likely full of sloppiness the Jedi would rather not contemplate) corner of robe, General Kenobi felt slightly grateful that there hadn't been any lava.
Yet.
At the moment, Krotuvis had simply erupted a massive black cloud of pumice and ash that had mixed cruelly with what would have been a perfectly innocent thunderhead. This damned storm had lasted since yesterday morning.
As badly as the the droids were affected by the ash-mud, the living beings would have to be wary of inhaling too much of the noxious fumes rising from nearby fissures.
Aftershocks were an added danger.
And then there was the possibility of yet another eruption.

Anakin Skywalker, if he was bothered by the ashfall, made no complaint; his mood seemed currently set to "indifferent" save for the scowl of concentration that furrowed his brow. He'd moved forward automatically to take over Obi-Wan's defensive, blade whirling swift and sure before he ducked down as well, cursing softly as his lightsaber flickered.
"Ash is jamming the crystal," he muttered, more to himself than to Obi-Wan. His face was well smeared, too. He rather looked like he'd been rolling in it.

"Of course it is," muttered the hero's former Master with a tone that indicated as much exasperation with the growing-steadily-worse situation as one could expect from a Jedi. A streak of smeared gray formed a backwards mask around Obi-Wan's eyes; the rest of his face did not merit a constant cleaning and so displayed an ashy blackness that matched their current colorless landscape. His clothes had not fared much better, soaked with dirty rain as they were.
"How are your lungs, Anakin? The rain has done a fairly decent job of clearing the air, but there are still free particles wandering about."

"I'm okay." Anakin gave him a brief, wan smile. "Holding my breath when I get a chance. How are you?"

"I'll survive." He chanced a glance over the boulder, ignoring the urge to cough. "Our opponents seem to be having trouble- shall we give them a bit more?"

"Lead me, oh Master, and I shall follow." Anakin wiped the last bit of grime he could from his lightsaber and tensed to spring back to his feet.

"Hm..." Obi-Wan made a restraining gesture with his hand. "I count about twenty upon our right, and perhaps... six droidekas upon our left, beyond the twenty. Can you sense any others, Anakin?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, flexing his fingers in suddenly serene concentration. "There's a few to the forward, too. I count three droidekas, nothing else. Looks like they're concentrating their firepower to the sides. Figuring they'll break through more easily there." Anakin opened his eyes, expression serious. "Maybe we should try to outmaneuver them first."

"Concurred." Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the ashy rain, thoughtfully rubbing congealed black goo from within his moustache. "The terrain here concerns me, however. I sense it isn't very stable."
As if the universe enjoyed a good bit of irony, the ranks of the twenty droid troops exploded upward in a geyser of heated wet and flying electronics. Scraps of melted droids splattered across the ash-strewn rocks. Soldiers with their arms intact attempted to drag themselves through the black mud, but the affected wires continued to burble and fester until the operating lights fizzled out and the droids became just another dirty grey blot upon the landscape.
"Ah," observed Obi-Wan after a moment. "Acid. How perfect."

He closed his eyes for a moment, flexing his fingers in suddenly serene concentration. "There's a few to the forward, too. I count three droidekas, nothing else. Looks like they're concentrating their firepower to the sides. Figuring they'll break through more easily there." Anakin opened his eyes, expression serious. "Maybe we should try to outmaneuver them first."

"Concurred." Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the ashy rain, thoughtfully rubbing congealed black goo from within his moustache. "The terrain here concerns me, however. I sense it isn't very stable."
As if the universe enjoyed a good bit of irony, the ranks of the twenty droid troops exploded upward in a geyser of heated wet and flying electronics. Scraps of melted droids splattered across the ash-strewn rocks. Soldiers with their arms intact attempted to drag themselves through the black mud, but the affected wires continued to burble and fester until the operating lights fizzled out and the droids became just another dirty grey blot upon the landscape.
"Ah," observed Obi-Wan after a moment. "Acid. How perfect."

Anakin's whole body stiffened, like an offended garcat, though his expression didn't flicker at all.
"We can't stop it," he said decisively. "The most we can do is avoid it. Maybe we can even use it to our advantage-"

Obi-Wan coughed, ducking away from possible spray. "Hopefully so."

"Don't breathe too deeply." Anakin patted his shoulder, looking over the boulder carefully. "We shouldn't stay here much longer. There might be another burst."

"Agreed." Obi-Wan scanned the smoking haze before them, mentally mapping out an appropriate course. "Well, no time like the present- shall I take the left flank and you the right?"

He nodded, squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder once, and then let him go. "It's a plan. Be careful of the droidekas, and keep your eyes open- shout for me if something goes wrong."

The elder man smiled quietly, careful not to let the ash-rain get into his mouth. "Yes, Master. Have you any other instructions?"

Anakin flashed him a brief, warm smile. "Try not to die?"

A single finger pointed towards the skies. "That, I cannot guarantee, but I shall certainly endeavor not to leave you sad and bereft." Obi-Wan cheerfully fished his lightsaber from the protective folds of his cloak. "I know how much you'd miss me."

Anakin laughed. "Are you kidding? I'd just be pissed about having to fight the rest of this stupid war alone." He rose carefully to his feet, body hunched in the shadow of their rocky shelter. "Ready?"

Obi-Wan made a show of brushing himself off. "I don't know whether to be amused or offended by that remark." He set his feet against steady crevices. "Ready."

"Let's go!"
Anakin darted out into the open, swinging his blade, a blur of blue and black amid the smoke and ash.

Obi-Wan followed quickly, leaping over fallen droids and using them as stepping stones to get into the air.

Anakin was a blaze of fury and skill, lightsaber whirling, eyes focused on his task. He leapt high from the vantage point of one rock to land hard feet first atop one droid, effectively crushing it into metal dust.

Obi-Wan was far more measured and contemplative in his attack, yet no less swift. He took each opponent as it came, varying his method of attack for each and being quite careful with the slipping ash.

The mountain rumbled ominously, and Anakin paused after a swift side-spin kick, slamming a droideka into a mess of smaller droids hard, to look up towards the summit in alarm.
"Watch it, could be trouble!"

Obi-Wan merely nodded in reply, spinning off his most recent droid stepping-stool and slicing it neatly in twain as he slipped to the ground-
Beyond the fog of ash were large dark shapes. Extremely large.
"Anakin! Droid transports!"
He made haste towards more secure ground.

Anakin swore under his breath and skidded sideways to avoid a sudden laser blast from one of the transports, narrowly avoiding getting blasted right off the mountain by it.
"Cover, quick!"
His blade performed a swift whirl to deflect a firing droideka's shot back at the transports.

Obi-Wan Force-pushed the few droidekas clustering around Anakin back towards the transports. In just enough time for the flying objects to catch the vicious brunt of another geyser.
The sheer power of the acid explosion affected the transports as well; one fell off its runners and tipped end over end.

Quick footed, Anakin ducked behind another large boulder, pressing his shoulders hard against the heated stone and wincing as debris and shrapel narrowly missed his body. Obi-Wan could take care of himself, he knew, he wasn't worried about anything right now save his own feet slipping in the thick ash beneath his boots.

The elder Jedi took shelter in the lee of a large stone, restraining a clenched jaw when the light of his saber began to flicker dangerously. Despite all efforts to the contrary, the ash had worked its way inside the metal cylinder, and Obi-Wan didn't have the time to clean the inner mechanism properly.
He released the blade and hooked it to his belt once more, relying upon his ability to shove as a means of defense.
Unfortunately, the droid transports remained undeterred by their fallen comrade; they kept coming, rolling as massive tanks.

"All right over there?" Anakin couldn't see him physically, but he knew where Obi-Wan was, as clearly as though he were a shining point of light in the Force.

"I'll be all right," protested the bearded man, concentrating upon pushing a swath of the droids clear. More explosions rocked the ground, throwing even Obi-Wan to the rocky surface.

Anakin lifted himself up, trying to peer over his shelter to where Obi-Wan was. Master!

Obi-Wan tried to fight his way upright, but the black sludge clung too tightly to his body to allow freedom.
Also unfortunate was the flying weight of an unsettled transport. Like others before it, the massive mechanical conglomerate wavered in the air and landed heavily upon a corner, crushing itself and falling side over side and end over end.
Anakin did not receive a reply.

He was unwilling to let it stay that way.
Anakin sprung out from behind the boulder, slamming a flying droideka in half, and sprinted for Obi-Wan. He understood what silence meant, here on the battlefield.

The terrain itself, as much as the soldiers upon it, was responsible for the carnage. Dirty lumps underneath other dirty lumps turned out to the be the strewn and severed pieces of droids when Anakin grew close enough to inspect them; the transport had smashed open across the rocks like a dropped egg, spilling its innards into the mud and rain.
The distant mountain rumbled.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin looked around wildly. The remainder of their enemies had fallen to the violence of the Jedi and the mountain, and that thunderous sound was the only noise to be heard. "Say something!" He had to be here somewhere.

Underneath the rumbling came a small sound, low and brief.

Anakin set his teeth together hard and reached for that sound, for a Force presence, for anything.
Speak to me.

The hazy garbled mass of metal trembled as if something were attempting to exert itself against its sheer size, but the trembling soon stopped, apparently too intense an effort to be sustained.

Immediately Anakin bounded over- a flip of his wrist sent the mass of metal, big as it was, tumbling headlong down the mountain over his head as he dropped to his knees in the ash, expression intent, dark.
"Obi-Wan..."

The mud below the transport bore any number of blackened, slimy lumps. The bulk of them were crushed droids.

He closed his eyes and reached again, seeking the scent of ocean, the soft ebb and tide of waves against shore...

Which lurked as faint and forgotten as clean nature overcome by thick oil, but at least it was there.
Under a clump of tattered droidekas.

Anakin stumbled to his feet, clumsy, suddenly, in ways he'd never been before in his life. Swift gestures with his hands, sending debris and ruined droids flying in all directions, away, away, to clean the water and make it run clear again, to put his hands in the wet and feel it flowing alive and strong.
Obi-Wan, please.

A fit of coughing greeted the young Jedi; the action of battered lungs attempting to pull in more air.
"...How very strange... bloody things shielded me." Obi-Wan made no attempt to rise. His whole form was almost impossible to descern from the rest of the ash and the shattered, crushed droids, save for his eyes. The clear blue-gray didn't belong here, not where muck writhed its way into every crevice and turned even coppery-gold hair charcoal-oily.

Anakin dropped to his knees again, uncaring of the dust and debris. His hands lifted, hovering, uncertain of where to touch, what to do.
He went for businesslike.
"Where are you hurt?" One hand finally settled on Obi-Wan's forehead, trying, gently, to wipe the mess from his face and hair.

Obi-Wan's eyes closed against the falling rain; the raindrops hurt when they splashed into the eye. Polluted water.
He coughed, choking up an unnerving mixture of black and red. "...You know... I don't know where to start." He smiled, teeth bright against the ash despite the addition of blood. "...Ribs make the most sense as any place, I suppose."
The rocks around them hissed.
"You'd best make your way to safer ground, Anakin," Obi-Wan suggested sensibly. "...Don't want to be caught here when another geyser hits."

"We have to get you out of here first," Anakin said, shifting his position to put his back against the rainfall, shielding Obi-Wan from the wet as best he could. "I'm going to carry you, do you think you can move at all-?"
He was ignoring the red, the black. Things were fixable. He knew from personal experience.

"I believe I've tried that already," murmured Obi-Wan quietly. "Anakin, you really ought to move somewhere safer. The battle isn't won yet, and the troops need a general."
He wheezed after this and tried to catch his breath.

"We're going together." Anakin's jaw had taken on the tight set it often did when he was hearing something, some instruction or fact he didn't like and intended to argue. Despite his words he made no move to lift Obi-Wan; he seemed to understand how much pain it would cause his teacher. "Just... let me get a med unit down here..." He fumbled with one hand for his comlink, the other still smoothing ash from Obi-Wan's face.

If his body had been capable of the motion, Obi-Wan would have shaken his head. "No time for that... The ground here is unstable."

"You are not doing this to me," Anakin said tightly. "So just stop it. It's going to be dealt with." He couldn't find his comlink. He must have dropped it somewhere, lost among the ash. There was no way to call for help.
His hands were shaking, slightly. He wondered absently why.

The elder man peered at him thoughtfully from the growing bed of ash. The rain was fading; more dry pieces from the inner fire floated down to wet themselves like dirty snow. "...I am not the only one who has need of you."

"I have need of /you/." Anakin's voice broke on the last word; he understood, on some level. He understood. Anakin wasn't a fool. His hands stroked Obi-Wan's hair, body hunching, pain threatening to bow him in half. "Please, Master, don't do this, please."

But the Jedi wasn't about to be put off. "...the Senator from Naboo has put on weight, I noticed." Again that white sliver of a smile. "But not in the face... or the hands... just the midsection." The sea's eyes opened again, serene and fixed upon Anakin's grieving face. "Any thoughts on that, Anakin?"

The young Jedi made a sound halfway between a laughed exclaimation and a sob. "Mine," he said, taking Obi-Wan's limp hand and pressing it to his cheek. "It's mine. She's mine." He kissed Obi-Wan's dusty, calloused palm, heedless of the smear or the blood. "They're both mine."

"Aha." He used some strength to pat the wayward boy. Once. "You'd best look after them, then."
It was a dirty trick, to use a child to barter for a Padawan's desire to live, but it was a trick that worked.
"They'll get into a... great deal..." Breathe. Continue to breathe. "...of trouble without you."

"Master." So soft, the same softness of Obi-Wan's own voice, as he'd cradled the dying Qui-Gon on the floor of a Naboo generator room, a word that meant father, protector, friend. Anakin was weeping softly, whatever adult silence or hardness he'd achieved fallen away.

"Listen to me, Anakin," Obi-Wan put his last remaining reserves into this voice, this command. "You are going to get to safer ground and you will lead the remaining troops, but above all, you will survive." The rough grime of his palm met the caked dirt of Anakin's cheek. "Jedi or no, you have a life waiting for you beyond this battle." He smiled through the pain, the part of him that had devoted itself to the Order ebbing away into this effort, leaving only the part that had raised this boy and seen him grow into a man. "...Perhaps a happy life. That is all I have wanted for you." My son.
Not just Padawan.
Not simply an obligation to a former Master, not just a student or a ward in the sense that Jedi were expected to regard them.
Anakin commanded a level of attachment higher than that.
Regardless of the rules.

Father, whispered Anakin's mind and heart in reply, in an undeniable unison.
"I love you," he said aloud, rubbing his cheek against Obi-Wan's hand. It hurt to speak of this at all, hurt to realize how long he'd been denied saying these words. "I love you," he said again, and his voice broke beyond repair.

The dying man would have laughed if he'd been capable. The irony of now. "Love..." His palm was touching Anakin's face, almost a question.
He'd said the word.
Was it possible to confirm? Would it break him or was it exactly what Anakin needed to hear?
"Of course." Did he even have the breath left? "Always."

Anakin could make no reply. He could not move, could do nothing but huddle there, clutching Obi-Wan's hand, weeping, trembling, trying to cling to one of the most precious things in his life before it slipped away. Gentle Obi-Wan, calm, rational, mild Obi-Wan, beautiful Obi-Wan. Stronger, smarter than anybody he knew.
Who will protect me? Who will love me now?
Padme.
Padme isn't Master.
Slowly, Anakin shifted, sprawled out on his side, rested his ear over the failing heartbeat, without letting go of the hand he still held.
He closed his eyes and listened, as he had for years since he'd been small and helpless and afraid.
He was no longer helpless.
But he was certainly afraid.

Obi-Wan rested a hand upon Anakin's head. Gentle, always gentle. "Run. 'S not safe here."

"I can't," Anakin whispered back. "I can't, Amani, not yet."

"You can't die with me."
For the first time since being wounded, Obi-Wan sounded afraid- Afraid that it would happen.

"You can't die alone." Tears had made tracks in the ash that coated Anakin's face. "And I s-said I wasn't going to leave you here."

"No." The ground was trembling, the preamble to a violent action. "Go."

Anakin was shaking.
"Are you still in pain?"

The hand against Anakin's hair lay heavy and callused. "No. Not for a while."

"Then..." Anakin moved slowly to sit up, to rise. He looked down at Obi-Wan for a moment, then leaned over and kissed his forehead softly. "I'm taking you home."
With that, he began to gather the dying Jedi Master up, bracing him carefully over his shoulders. Weight be dammed, gore be dammed, he was going to do this if it killed him.

No answer.

It didn't matter.
Anakin took hold of him, balanced him, and began to make his way down the mountain alone.
He felt nothing, just a vast emptiness. Drought. The cracked, dry desert after months of no rain.

After all, there was no more water.