[ He smiles behind his mask, wide and untamed, the ache of being apart from Claude fading into the background, not to disappear but to take up only what little space it can be afforded. They have missions to complete, after all, and once they have, there'll be time for the rest. It's becoming gradually easier for him to think like this, to imagine next time and later without convulsively clinging to the present. Claude continually gives him tomorrow and he thinks that's the key, somehow. Even with everything he's done, everything he's ruined for them, he refuses to be lost.
Anakin will try to honour that the best he can. ]
And I love you. Awful posture or not.
[ He regularly calls Claude my love or beloved because Anakin has always been free with his affection around the few people he considers his. He isn't certain, however, that he's heard those words from Claude in... a while. He doesn't have to, obviously, to know what the other man shows him without words day after day but it feels good, regardless. Steadying.
Straightening in his seat a little, he holds out the stump of his arm. The prosthetic rises from the floor and zooms into view, popping itself back with a loud twist. ]
Ten hour sit-ins, though, really? You've actually found other people willing to talk that long? [ He shakes his head. ] Politicians. Kriff.
[ Laughing, watching Anakin screw his arm back on with the Force, thinking about the other Force user currently in his vicinity, Claude runs one hand through his hair and looks to the side for a moment, debating whether to bring it up now or wait. The atmosphere is good as it is, this very moment, he doesn't want to dampen it, destroy it. However, at the same time, he knows full well that he owes it to Anakin to stay honest, about anything connected to his past, especially, and they've never kept those kinds of secrets from each other. They are honest, open, straight-forward.
And Anakin is joking about it, which is cute as kriff. He just wants them to enjoy that, the few minutes they get like this.
But sometimes it's not about what Claude wants. Kenobi is certainly hammering home that point one time after the other these days.
Claude's smile falters. Fades. His hands fall back into his lap and he looks at Anakin with an uncertain expression for a couple of seconds, watches every part of him that he loves. That he wants to keep, okay. Kriff, he just wants to keep this. This way. ]
[ For a moment, the bubble holds. They remain without this little illusion of normalcy, one they managed to create before the fall of the Republic, too, but in a different way. The contrast, he thinks, between fantasy and reality was there even then but it's clearer now. Indisputable in an exhausting way, like someone knocking repeatedly and loudly on your window in the dead of night. As such, it isn't overly surprising when it bursts - his chest feels heavier for it, deprived, but the expression on Claude's face bothers him more.
He looks uncertain. Why would he be uncertain? Anakin frowns, waiting for him to explain, his non-existent eyebrows snapping upwards at the mention of his Jedi contact. Oh. He makes a very strong argument, says Claude and immediately, what remains of Anakin's stomach turns. He shifts, uncomfortably aware of himself, of the thrum of the engine beneath him. Hyperaware.
Obi-Wan.
For a long moment, he can't speak. He just stares at Claude, his eyes widening. He'd go deadly pale if he weren't already. ]
Alright.
[ He swallows. It's good of Claude to tell him, yes, because he'd know that it matters, even if he doesn't know why or how much. At the same time, it makes it doubly-hard for him to stick to the rules. He should be there. He should take Claude away. Fighting to control his voice, he says: ]
You should know that we parted on bad terms. He very firmly believes me dead and you shouldn't give him any proof to the contrary, not while you're there by yourself. [ Without me to get you out, it means. ] Be very careful.
[ He catches on. The way you catch on to someone running head-first into a giant wall, that kind of hit by the circumstances. This is their reality. As long as they live, there'll be something to remind them that they don't exactly live in a vacuum, alone, just the two of them. There's a world out there and Anakin has set it in motion and it won't stop rolling anytime soon. Claude swallows, thinking briefly of Anakin's kyber around his neck, whether it's gonna pose a problem. Can they sense these things, Force users? Should Claude take it off?
Shifting a bit uncomfortably, he thinks Anakin's words over, he very firmly believes me dead, and decides that should worst come to worst, he'll have to just run with that belief. He's not a good liar, but there's part truth to it, Anakin did lose his way, changed for a while.
Claude can believe that, even as he speaks the words. Because he's seen the reality of it, as has everyone else. Obi-Wan Kenobi included.
The main issue here is to not fuel Anakin's fear any more than necessary. Claude looks at him a long moment, head slightly cocked to one side, eyes tracking over his features, clearer due to the reception. Good. Close. He mustn't come here. He mustn't. ]
You're worried about me. [ Leaning over a little, he folds his hands in front of himself. Gestures softly. ] I'm not gonna insist, but are you willing to tell me why? This specific why, I mean - not the general why.
[ He smiles, small and comforting. Holding out all the understanding that he can manage in one sentence. ]
[ Claude's smile is small but full of understanding and Anakin swallows in response, painfully this time, and sits back a little, straightening. The other man is, as always, being considerate and giving him an out and Anakin is tempted to take it; it's not that he can't talk about what happened (though he hasn't, actually, ever) but rather...
Obi-Wan will do what he can to stop me. [ A sharp nod, gesturing at his own body. ] For what I did - well. I suppose others would have done the same.
[ His voice is blank. The fact is, while he would have expected being left behind to suffer from the rest of the Council, from other Jedi - perhaps it would have even been just, if you ignore the whole doctrine about compassion - the mental image of Obi-Wan leaving him behind like it was nothing has burned itself into his retinas worse than the fumes and ashes. Before Anakin's betrayal, before he lost his ability to navigate the agendas spinning out of control around him, he would have laid down his life for him.
His eyes narrow as he fights down a wave of anger, twisted with other, more difficult emotions, hot and violently dangerous. He will save them, he thinks, for later. There are suitable conflicts waiting for him where he's going. ]
Staring at Anakin in a horror he's never felt in regards to the outcome of it, he takes in the other man's words and translates them to something very curt and to the point: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin's teacher, Anakin's Master, did this to him, crippled him so thoroughly, leaving him to his fate, rather than doing what would under the circumstances have been the merciful thing. He has never wished death upon Anakin for what he did, but he has wished him peace. He has wished him peace a thousand times.
Seems he was right in being reminded of Rainier. He was right in the bitter taste on the back of his tongue, the overt skepticism, the long hours of not giving in. He was right in all that.
His hands curl into fists in his lap, grabbing the fabric of his trousers and twisting into it. It's not that often he gets this angry. His mouth feels dry and there's a short moment of panic in which he doesn't actually know how to respond.
I suppose others would have done the same.
No doubt, they would have. ]
But Kenobi wasn't others. [ Suddenly desperate to bridge the distance between them, however long or short it may be, Claude frees his right hand from its convulsive grip and reaches out, holding his hand out, palm flat, turned-out. Somehow, between them, it's become code for all the things they can't as easily address in these loaded moments, at this point. The things that don't even have words. ] I'm sorry, Anakin.
[ Anakin looks at him, frowning. He watches his outstretched hand for a second or two before he connects them, folding his own fingers against the blue light, entwining them the best they can at this distance. It feels good, familiar. It brings him back to himself.
Of course, Claude gets it. That's why he's angry now in a way that Anakin rarely sees - Claude, too, has had a mentor once and their relationship was a failure. It's not quite comparable, after all, Claude was trying to free Rainier's people, not obliterate them. Anakin knows what he did. But they meet here, in this understanding, regardless and though he shouldn't indulge because unlike Claude, he deserved to burn, a part of him is almost pitifully grateful. To Claude, who loves him anyway. Claude, who understands.
He flicks a stray tear off his cheek with his other hand. Then, he gives Claude a smile, shaky but genuine enough to make his eyes crinkle. They are here now. And they must work around their circumstances, him and Claude, as they've done so many times before. ]
Like I said. Just take care.
[ Obi-Wan won't be a danger to Claude, provided they keep their relation - and relationship - hidden. He's not that kind of man, not to others. And before Order 66, Obi-Wan would have said the same about him, he thinks, but Obi-Wan was wrong and blinded by the Jedi doctrines. They played Sidious' game in the end, to their detriment - and if they hadn't, the galaxy would have possibly fallen anyway. Such thought experiments are useless. It all comes back to the same truth; the Jedi were too late. They played right into Sidious' hands, the way beings tend to do, no more capable at stopping what was happening than anyone else.
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Anakin will try to honour that the best he can. ]
And I love you. Awful posture or not.
[ He regularly calls Claude my love or beloved because Anakin has always been free with his affection around the few people he considers his. He isn't certain, however, that he's heard those words from Claude in... a while. He doesn't have to, obviously, to know what the other man shows him without words day after day but it feels good, regardless. Steadying.
Straightening in his seat a little, he holds out the stump of his arm. The prosthetic rises from the floor and zooms into view, popping itself back with a loud twist. ]
Ten hour sit-ins, though, really? You've actually found other people willing to talk that long? [ He shakes his head. ] Politicians. Kriff.
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[ Laughing, watching Anakin screw his arm back on with the Force, thinking about the other Force user currently in his vicinity, Claude runs one hand through his hair and looks to the side for a moment, debating whether to bring it up now or wait. The atmosphere is good as it is, this very moment, he doesn't want to dampen it, destroy it. However, at the same time, he knows full well that he owes it to Anakin to stay honest, about anything connected to his past, especially, and they've never kept those kinds of secrets from each other. They are honest, open, straight-forward.
And Anakin is joking about it, which is cute as kriff. He just wants them to enjoy that, the few minutes they get like this.
But sometimes it's not about what Claude wants. Kenobi is certainly hammering home that point one time after the other these days.
Claude's smile falters. Fades. His hands fall back into his lap and he looks at Anakin with an uncertain expression for a couple of seconds, watches every part of him that he loves. That he wants to keep, okay. Kriff, he just wants to keep this. This way. ]
The reason Padmé didn't give me any details was because my collaborator is a Jedi, he makes a very strong argument, for pretty much everything. [ After those words are spoken, Claude only hesitates a second, because he knows the many, many conclusions that Anakin might come to on his own. He wants to aid him to the right ones. He wants to stay right next to him, all the way. Down into the depths. ] It's Obi-Wan Kenobi.
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He looks uncertain. Why would he be uncertain? Anakin frowns, waiting for him to explain, his non-existent eyebrows snapping upwards at the mention of his Jedi contact. Oh. He makes a very strong argument, says Claude and immediately, what remains of Anakin's stomach turns. He shifts, uncomfortably aware of himself, of the thrum of the engine beneath him. Hyperaware.
Obi-Wan.
For a long moment, he can't speak. He just stares at Claude, his eyes widening. He'd go deadly pale if he weren't already. ]
Alright.
[ He swallows. It's good of Claude to tell him, yes, because he'd know that it matters, even if he doesn't know why or how much. At the same time, it makes it doubly-hard for him to stick to the rules. He should be there. He should take Claude away. Fighting to control his voice, he says: ]
You should know that we parted on bad terms. He very firmly believes me dead and you shouldn't give him any proof to the contrary, not while you're there by yourself. [ Without me to get you out, it means. ] Be very careful.
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Shifting a bit uncomfortably, he thinks Anakin's words over, he very firmly believes me dead, and decides that should worst come to worst, he'll have to just run with that belief. He's not a good liar, but there's part truth to it, Anakin did lose his way, changed for a while.
Claude can believe that, even as he speaks the words. Because he's seen the reality of it, as has everyone else. Obi-Wan Kenobi included.
The main issue here is to not fuel Anakin's fear any more than necessary. Claude looks at him a long moment, head slightly cocked to one side, eyes tracking over his features, clearer due to the reception. Good. Close. He mustn't come here. He mustn't. ]
You're worried about me. [ Leaning over a little, he folds his hands in front of himself. Gestures softly. ] I'm not gonna insist, but are you willing to tell me why? This specific why, I mean - not the general why.
[ He smiles, small and comforting. Holding out all the understanding that he can manage in one sentence. ]
I know that one, we're not safe, either of us.
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Well.
It's embarrassing, isn't it. Humiliating.
But Claude should know, he thinks, in case anything comes up - Anakin can't be another blind spot for him, especially not while Padmé still insists on holding certain things back from him because of their association. He flexes his fingers, testing the hydraulics in his lower arm quickly before folding his hands against his knees. ]
Obi-Wan will do what he can to stop me. [ A sharp nod, gesturing at his own body. ] For what I did - well. I suppose others would have done the same.
[ His voice is blank. The fact is, while he would have expected being left behind to suffer from the rest of the Council, from other Jedi - perhaps it would have even been just, if you ignore the whole doctrine about compassion - the mental image of Obi-Wan leaving him behind like it was nothing has burned itself into his retinas worse than the fumes and ashes. Before Anakin's betrayal, before he lost his ability to navigate the agendas spinning out of control around him, he would have laid down his life for him.
His eyes narrow as he fights down a wave of anger, twisted with other, more difficult emotions, hot and violently dangerous. He will save them, he thinks, for later. There are suitable conflicts waiting for him where he's going. ]
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Then, Claude stares.
Staring at Anakin in a horror he's never felt in regards to the outcome of it, he takes in the other man's words and translates them to something very curt and to the point: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin's teacher, Anakin's Master, did this to him, crippled him so thoroughly, leaving him to his fate, rather than doing what would under the circumstances have been the merciful thing. He has never wished death upon Anakin for what he did, but he has wished him peace. He has wished him peace a thousand times.
Seems he was right in being reminded of Rainier. He was right in the bitter taste on the back of his tongue, the overt skepticism, the long hours of not giving in. He was right in all that.
His hands curl into fists in his lap, grabbing the fabric of his trousers and twisting into it. It's not that often he gets this angry. His mouth feels dry and there's a short moment of panic in which he doesn't actually know how to respond.
I suppose others would have done the same.
No doubt, they would have. ]
But Kenobi wasn't others. [ Suddenly desperate to bridge the distance between them, however long or short it may be, Claude frees his right hand from its convulsive grip and reaches out, holding his hand out, palm flat, turned-out. Somehow, between them, it's become code for all the things they can't as easily address in these loaded moments, at this point. The things that don't even have words. ] I'm sorry, Anakin.
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Of course, Claude gets it. That's why he's angry now in a way that Anakin rarely sees - Claude, too, has had a mentor once and their relationship was a failure. It's not quite comparable, after all, Claude was trying to free Rainier's people, not obliterate them. Anakin knows what he did. But they meet here, in this understanding, regardless and though he shouldn't indulge because unlike Claude, he deserved to burn, a part of him is almost pitifully grateful. To Claude, who loves him anyway. Claude, who understands.
He flicks a stray tear off his cheek with his other hand. Then, he gives Claude a smile, shaky but genuine enough to make his eyes crinkle. They are here now. And they must work around their circumstances, him and Claude, as they've done so many times before. ]
Like I said. Just take care.
[ Obi-Wan won't be a danger to Claude, provided they keep their relation - and relationship - hidden. He's not that kind of man, not to others. And before Order 66, Obi-Wan would have said the same about him, he thinks, but Obi-Wan was wrong and blinded by the Jedi doctrines. They played Sidious' game in the end, to their detriment - and if they hadn't, the galaxy would have possibly fallen anyway. Such thought experiments are useless. It all comes back to the same truth; the Jedi were too late. They played right into Sidious' hands, the way beings tend to do, no more capable at stopping what was happening than anyone else.
In that, Anakin is no different.
And his old Master could do no better than him. ]