Title: Might Not Make It That Far
Word Count: 428
Characters:Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, OC
Summary:Loss rips into you and drags your heart out on its tide. But your heart keeps beating anyway.
Apparently on a mission to prove that ninety percent of everything is crap, I'm back with another ill-conceived installment for the swmininano challenge. Same OC as last time, so if you want to throw a name in the hat, I'll give you a pretty pretty treat. :) Disclaimer: Star Wars and associated themes and characters are the intellectual property of George Lucas. This story is purely a work of fan fiction, and I am not making any profit from it.
He can’t breathe. His heart thunders in his chest, trying to beat it way out through his ribs, and he can’t think and
She’s not there.
Darkness reaches up and drags him under, and he can’t find her anywhere.
“Anakin!” Someone shakes him, roughly. “Anakin! Stay with me, Anakin. Can you hear me?”
He opens his eyes, not frantic anymore but hurting, engulfed by that sense of loss that’s trying to claw its way out of his chest, worse than when Dooku took his arm because this wound is inside, but Obi-Wan is here and so maybe it’s going to be all right, he can make it better, he can find her, if he just sits up and trusts Obi-Wan, they can fix this together ...
“Where is she?”
Obi-Wan’s face constricts in pain. “She’s gone, Anakin. She’s not coming back.”
No, that wasn’t possible, couldn’t be real, she wasn’t gone, she’d never leave him, it was all some mistake. Dooku couldn’t win, he couldn’t kill her. They couldn’t lose this hard.
“No,” he chokes. “Obi-Wan, we have to - we have to -”
“Anakin, there’s nothing we can do for her now.”
But he’d seen the blossoming fireball that took her. No one could have survived that.
They said the same about Obi-Wan, once.
He gasps and clutches at his Master’s shoulders. “What do we - what do we do?”
Obi-Wan’s face is wet with unexpected tears, and suddenly Anakin knows this is real. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be crying unless she were never coming back. Unless her bright light were extinguished forever.
“We persevere, Anakin. We persevere.”
For once, the older Jedi doesn’t bother with any pretense of denying attachment. There’s no point. All they can do now is soldier on.
Anakin turns and vomits onto the cold metal deck of the ship, the convulsions wracking him purging his breakfast - hours ago now, maybe yesterday - and keeping him dry-heaving through his tears long after he has nothing left to give.