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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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. ]