So, in the end, he retreats to his own room, the only truly private place in the old farm they're using for hide-out and turns on the comm once he's seated on his bed, remembering another time, another bed, another call. His stomach feels in knots. Since they parted ways, Claude pulling the other man in for a hug, awkward and too-hard, he's spent most of his time lying low and growing a beard, his ministrations showing as a short, even growth of stubs all over his chin. Even the Empire can't fight his kriffing hair growth.
The image of Anakin startles him slightly, not enough to show, but he's sure the other man can probably tell anyway. He's out of his suit. A half-mask all that's left of the black metal. You can actually make out Anakin's own features behind it now.
His immediate response kind of escapes him in a blurted-out, ]
[ He raises his eyebrows, hairless, the skin still brittle. He doesn't know how to fix any of that damage, as it were - he doesn't have the means nor the tech available. Near Kamino, he's kept a small container, known only to him, full of pilfered medical supplies as well as a small droid, one that used to work in Tipoca City. It's been enough to get him somewhere, if not as far as he'd like for practical reasons. Consequently, though he hasn't actually looked at himself in a mirror yet, he's fairly certain that he looks slightly nightmarish still, even without the helmet and the mask. That's not what Claude's talking about though.
He likes being able to see him, too.
A half-smile, visible mostly because his cheeks lift with the motion and his eyes crinkle: ]
As for you - is that a beard?
[ His voice is scratchy and mostly a whisper but he's practiced pronouncing his words over the past two years to aid his vocoder and they come across clearly enough. Meanwhile, he's busy staring at Claude's would-be-beard, his eyes narrowing a fraction as he takes in the tiny stubs along his chin.
That's going to look... interesting, at length. Very.
[ It's one of those smiles, a smile that doesn't show in teeth or the curve of lips as much as in the movement of cheek, crinkling of eyes. And although it isn't much, it makes Claude smile, too. Small, soft. He rests his elbows on his knees and folds his hands in front of himself, shoulders slightly forward-hunched. There's something intimate about it, about it being just the two of them. In whispers and mutters and solitude.
Claude savours it, regretting it at the same time. He's done a lot of thinking since they saw each other last, about deserving things, about some things not even being about 'deserving' anymore. Anakin and him -- they're one such thing.
At the other man's question, he reaches up and touches two fingers to his chin, not really stroking it, because honestly, he hasn't gotten used to the feeling yet, not sure whether he even likes it, but in the end it's not about that. It's about camouflage. The masks people wear. Right, Anakin? ]
New identity, new face.
[ A moment's pause. They're both playing that game, after all. Changing themselves to change not just the outcome on the other side, but the foundation beneath them. He lets his hands drop again. ]
Not sure I like it, but it's necessary. As some things are.
[ His smile fades in time with Claude's, small expressions for fleeting moments. If Claude doesn't like it, he probably shouldn't either. The past two years, he's been so locked within his own mental state that he's more or less forgotten what it feels like to care what anyone else might think and really, once he starts caring about one thing, where does it end? But Claude has chosen to keep communicating with him and Anakin, in turn, has held off on hacking his comlink to trace his location.
Because he wouldn't like it and it matters. It must. ]'
The Empire is already too big for itself.
[ He rolls his eyes, shifting a little against the floor, metal screeching briefly against metal. ]
Too many, greedy hands, reaching for the same thing simultaneously. It only gets worse as time passes. So long as you take precautions, they won't recover you anytime soon.
[ Before his access to the networks became heavily restricted, Anakin has seen high-level bulletins from at least four, separate sectors concerning Claude's disappearance. There's very little information to go on; the agents that traced him and brought Claude to Mustafar have been dealt with, of course, and aside from them, the only other person who knows what happened afterwards is Anakin.
Not too many people looking for him - or Darth Vader - as it were. ]
Bounty hunters are my main concern once I leave my current location. I've been placed under guard here, so I'm gonna be fine as long as I stay put.
[ It takes conscious effort, not revealing things like planet names, nearby cities, routes and the like. Not because Claude isn't extremely careful with his details, but because it's Anakin. It's Anakin, and it feels almost instinctual to trust him with these things. This was the man who saved his life and started the Parisian rebellion that would become the start and the end of everything. Claude looks down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers for a brief moment to the sound of Anakin's metal limbs clanking against one another, metal on metal. Sometimes when Claude thinks about his current state, theirs, he mostly just wants to cry.
Now, instead, he clears his throat and looks up at the holo again, taking in the outline of Anakin's face, vastly changed just since the last time they met, like he's an ever-ongoing work in progress from hereon out. He thinks he knows what others would see if they saw him, a nightmarish figure, but Claude simply thinks, too thin, too pale, all eyes. Like a prisoner of war, and honestly - who among them isn't, these days.
Anakin more than most.
Claude continues, calmly, gently and without probing, because as it's safest for him that Anakin only knows his face, it's safer for Anakin that Claude knows nothing else. ]
[ There are many questions he could ask regarding Claude's statement. The bounty hunters, of course, he's already considered, as there's a rather generous-sized bounty on Claude's head across all four sectors. The fact that Claude has to leave his current location implies that he's heading on a mission which opens up a whole new range of anxieties and then, there's the matter of the guard. Who would that be? They almost certainly won't measure up.
So all in all, he can feel a very strong, physical urge to look the other man up and trail him for the duration of whatever he's going to do. He wouldn't even have to get involved, to be seen - he could pick people off amidst the shadows no problem. Staring at Claude, he considers simply doing so without telling him which immediately makes his chest tighten painfully, his breath catching briefly in his throat.
It wouldn't be right.
But it wouldn't be right for someone to get him, either. ]
I'm always safe. [ He raises his chin. ] You, on the other hand, aren't. Do you require additional security?
[ The real question, of course, remains unspoken but Claude will know, he thinks. May I keep you safe? A part of him - the one that's been fighting wars for half a decade, now - understands that Claude's keeping him at arm's length, still, for very obvious and solid reasons but if he doesn't ask, he's afraid what the thought might grow into. Out here, his thoughts wander. ]
[ What Anakin is really asking is, can I keep you safe, his own answer obviously being, yes, only me, only I, but Claude wants him to know, even if he followed him to the ends of the galaxy and laid waste to everything and put down every obstacle, he still wouldn't be able to keep him safe. That is not how love works. You're not secure in love, you just learn to live with your insecurities. Or... you should, at least. With some work.
So, Claude shakes his head firmly, holding up one hand in a dismissive gesture. ]
Not from yourself, Anakin. [ It's not said particularly pointedly, it's just said, has to be spoken out loud between them. Claude's dismissive palm turns into a softer gesture, then, not like he's pouring oil on troubled waters, but more like he's smoothening out something uneven and slightly bent out of place. ] If we're going to be close again, things need to change.
[ And although Anakin is Force knows how many clicks away, Claude meets his eyes over the holo and holds his gaze, holds it long and unyielding, but not hard. Never hard. Anakin has had enough hardness in his life. Been enough hardness for everyone, himself included. ]
So, if you really want to be near me, you should concentrate on being the kind of person who can provide that change. [ A small shrug, not unbothered, but maybe too bothered by everything. ] I don't want to be safe. I don't believe it's possible as things are.
[ When Claude shakes his head, Anakin frowns. The frown deepens considerably as he holds up his hand, the gesture as much of a refusal as any of the words that follow, softly spoken, earnestly put. He stares at the other man, his lips thinning dangerously. The words filter through his mind like oil sticking to fractures in the earth; for a long moment, all he feels is anger. Things need to change, says Claude, and then he says, if and the word reverberates within his mind, hanging there, isolated. If we're going to. If you really want. Posing underlying questions where no questions ought to be except he knew, didn't he, he knew from the beginning that he might just lose him, the way he's already lost everything and everyone else.
Then, with a sickly shot of fear rushing up his spine, he sees his eyes flashing yellow, reflected on the wall opposite. He blinks and straightens up, gaze flicking away fast, fists clenching in his lap. If you really want to be near me, he says.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right.
Breathing slowly, as evenly as his chest will allow, he finally clears his throat. ]
I...
[ Pause. He's having to force the words from his throat, something within constricted and tense, painfully so. You might die and I won't be there. I might lose you twice. And those are indeed the rules, says Claude, and he's right. They won't be safe anywhere, neither of them, for a long, long time to come. ]
I'm worried about you. And you are worried about me, too.
[ He takes another deep breath. His eyes flash yellow again, cold and dangerous. His next words are harder than he intends, his voice too clipped for what he's actually saying - what he's asking: ]
[ It grows cold around him, he feels that. Through the fabric of his trousers and his shirt, he feels the chill of the air, like something's freezing inside the molecules themselves. Claude frowns right back at Anakin, Anakin whose eyes flicker between yellow and blue, and honestly, Claude would be afraid for himself, if he wasn't so kriffing busy being worried about Anakin, worried that he might hurt himself, hurt others and thereby himself, worried that he'll lose hold of himself again and turn into something unrecognisable. Claude just found him! Claude just got him back. Please don't... please...
Tell me how you live with that, Anakin wants to know and Claude feels his lips tighten in a thin line for a moment. He asks himself the same thing a lot, like, a lot. And he hasn't found the answer to all of it yet, so what's he supposed to tell Anakin now?
The truth, because the truth is all they have left between them and that's what they got to build upon.
So, slowly, his hand still hanging a bit uselessly in the air, reaches out and flattens against an invisible wall between them, fingers lightly bent, the way they didn't but did touch back then, across clicks and circumstances.
Touch me, it means, the best we can. ]
I can't give you the perfect answer. I don't think it exists, it's different for everyone.
[ And while he waits for Anakin to accept or refuse his held-out hand, Claude takes a moment to think it over in his mind. He has priorities and those are in and by themselves prioritized a certain way, he's learned to move his focus around, to the back and to the forefront. It keeps him from obsessing. If not from getting gnawed at by his own worry. It's a matter of acceptance. ]
I accept that I can't rule over my fear and neither can I always rule over the circumstances that are giving me those fears. Fear is a natural response to situations that are difficult to exist within. Fear isn't dangerous in itself. [ A pause. ] But at some point, I have to move my focus away from my fears, you know? Because if I want things to progress, I need to take care of myself, or I'll never be able to be something for you on the other side of it. [ Pause. ] And that you might not be there when that time comes...
[ A pause again, longer. Claude licks his lips. ]
By choosing to love you, I choose to run that risk. You know about risks, Anakin. Some of them, the possible success of it weighs more heavily than the possibility of failure. Right?
[ He can feel the change in the air around him, the familiar coldness, ice to counteract the constant, underlying remembrance of fire. He sits very still, looking on as Claude raises his hand and holds it up and remembers many, many months ago, sitting in the Temple in the same way with his body aching in the best of ways, reaching back. This existence, he thinks, is an otherworld of that - it's cold, hard, and there is no underlying promise of proximity, not for a while. His stomach clenches painfully.
Fear is a natural response says Claude and that's something Anakin used to know as well, before he came to Coruscant and was taught about the dangers associated with it. Before that, fear had been a way to exist in a dangerous world and being afraid, as a slave, was wise. Alertness. The knowledge of consequences along with the possible gravity of them. Slowly, as Claude talks on, Anakin unclenches his metal fingers, his right upperarm trembling minutely at the strain. Then, he reaches out across the flickering blue hololight and entwines their fingers the best he can. It feels like nothing.
It is everything. ]
Right.
[ He's used to fixing things. It's all he's ever been good at, helping people, removing whichever obstacle's in their way to let them pass. Then, for the past two years, he's done the same for his Master, though it's felt like a mockery of what it used to. I can't rule over my fear says Claude and that's wise of him. That's one of the wisest things he's heard in a long, long while.
Anakin, however, must learn to rule over his, rather than trying to clear the path in front of it. It's an old, ingrained habit, something that says, be of use, be of use, be of use, no matter what it costs you.
He sighs. The tension bleeds from his shoulders. ]
Then, I will move my focus as well. [ He looks directly at Claude, gaze firm, despite the ache in his chest and the wetness rising in his eyes. ] To meet you on the other side.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So, in the end, he retreats to his own room, the only truly private place in the old farm they're using for hide-out and turns on the comm once he's seated on his bed, remembering another time, another bed, another call. His stomach feels in knots. Since they parted ways, Claude pulling the other man in for a hug, awkward and too-hard, he's spent most of his time lying low and growing a beard, his ministrations showing as a short, even growth of stubs all over his chin. Even the Empire can't fight his kriffing hair growth.
The image of Anakin startles him slightly, not enough to show, but he's sure the other man can probably tell anyway. He's out of his suit. A half-mask all that's left of the black metal. You can actually make out Anakin's own features behind it now.
His immediate response kind of escapes him in a blurted-out, ]
You look better.
no subject
He likes being able to see him, too.
A half-smile, visible mostly because his cheeks lift with the motion and his eyes crinkle: ]
As for you - is that a beard?
[ His voice is scratchy and mostly a whisper but he's practiced pronouncing his words over the past two years to aid his vocoder and they come across clearly enough. Meanwhile, he's busy staring at Claude's would-be-beard, his eyes narrowing a fraction as he takes in the tiny stubs along his chin.
That's going to look... interesting, at length. Very.
Very. ]
no subject
Claude savours it, regretting it at the same time. He's done a lot of thinking since they saw each other last, about deserving things, about some things not even being about 'deserving' anymore. Anakin and him -- they're one such thing.
At the other man's question, he reaches up and touches two fingers to his chin, not really stroking it, because honestly, he hasn't gotten used to the feeling yet, not sure whether he even likes it, but in the end it's not about that. It's about camouflage. The masks people wear. Right, Anakin? ]
New identity, new face.
[ A moment's pause. They're both playing that game, after all. Changing themselves to change not just the outcome on the other side, but the foundation beneath them. He lets his hands drop again. ]
Not sure I like it, but it's necessary. As some things are.
no subject
Because he wouldn't like it and it matters. It must. ]'
The Empire is already too big for itself.
[ He rolls his eyes, shifting a little against the floor, metal screeching briefly against metal. ]
Too many, greedy hands, reaching for the same thing simultaneously. It only gets worse as time passes. So long as you take precautions, they won't recover you anytime soon.
[ Before his access to the networks became heavily restricted, Anakin has seen high-level bulletins from at least four, separate sectors concerning Claude's disappearance. There's very little information to go on; the agents that traced him and brought Claude to Mustafar have been dealt with, of course, and aside from them, the only other person who knows what happened afterwards is Anakin.
Not too many people looking for him - or Darth Vader - as it were. ]
no subject
[ It takes conscious effort, not revealing things like planet names, nearby cities, routes and the like. Not because Claude isn't extremely careful with his details, but because it's Anakin. It's Anakin, and it feels almost instinctual to trust him with these things. This was the man who saved his life and started the Parisian rebellion that would become the start and the end of everything. Claude looks down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers for a brief moment to the sound of Anakin's metal limbs clanking against one another, metal on metal. Sometimes when Claude thinks about his current state, theirs, he mostly just wants to cry.
Now, instead, he clears his throat and looks up at the holo again, taking in the outline of Anakin's face, vastly changed just since the last time they met, like he's an ever-ongoing work in progress from hereon out. He thinks he knows what others would see if they saw him, a nightmarish figure, but Claude simply thinks, too thin, too pale, all eyes. Like a prisoner of war, and honestly - who among them isn't, these days.
Anakin more than most.
Claude continues, calmly, gently and without probing, because as it's safest for him that Anakin only knows his face, it's safer for Anakin that Claude knows nothing else. ]
You're as safe as you can be right now?
no subject
So all in all, he can feel a very strong, physical urge to look the other man up and trail him for the duration of whatever he's going to do. He wouldn't even have to get involved, to be seen - he could pick people off amidst the shadows no problem. Staring at Claude, he considers simply doing so without telling him which immediately makes his chest tighten painfully, his breath catching briefly in his throat.
It wouldn't be right.
But it wouldn't be right for someone to get him, either. ]
I'm always safe. [ He raises his chin. ] You, on the other hand, aren't. Do you require additional security?
[ The real question, of course, remains unspoken but Claude will know, he thinks. May I keep you safe? A part of him - the one that's been fighting wars for half a decade, now - understands that Claude's keeping him at arm's length, still, for very obvious and solid reasons but if he doesn't ask, he's afraid what the thought might grow into. Out here, his thoughts wander. ]
no subject
So, Claude shakes his head firmly, holding up one hand in a dismissive gesture. ]
Not from yourself, Anakin. [ It's not said particularly pointedly, it's just said, has to be spoken out loud between them. Claude's dismissive palm turns into a softer gesture, then, not like he's pouring oil on troubled waters, but more like he's smoothening out something uneven and slightly bent out of place. ] If we're going to be close again, things need to change.
[ And although Anakin is Force knows how many clicks away, Claude meets his eyes over the holo and holds his gaze, holds it long and unyielding, but not hard. Never hard. Anakin has had enough hardness in his life. Been enough hardness for everyone, himself included. ]
So, if you really want to be near me, you should concentrate on being the kind of person who can provide that change. [ A small shrug, not unbothered, but maybe too bothered by everything. ] I don't want to be safe. I don't believe it's possible as things are.
no subject
Then, with a sickly shot of fear rushing up his spine, he sees his eyes flashing yellow, reflected on the wall opposite. He blinks and straightens up, gaze flicking away fast, fists clenching in his lap. If you really want to be near me, he says.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right.
Breathing slowly, as evenly as his chest will allow, he finally clears his throat. ]
I...
[ Pause. He's having to force the words from his throat, something within constricted and tense, painfully so. You might die and I won't be there. I might lose you twice. And those are indeed the rules, says Claude, and he's right. They won't be safe anywhere, neither of them, for a long, long time to come. ]
I'm worried about you. And you are worried about me, too.
[ He takes another deep breath. His eyes flash yellow again, cold and dangerous. His next words are harder than he intends, his voice too clipped for what he's actually saying - what he's asking: ]
Tell me how you live with that.
no subject
Tell me how you live with that, Anakin wants to know and Claude feels his lips tighten in a thin line for a moment. He asks himself the same thing a lot, like, a lot. And he hasn't found the answer to all of it yet, so what's he supposed to tell Anakin now?
The truth, because the truth is all they have left between them and that's what they got to build upon.
So, slowly, his hand still hanging a bit uselessly in the air, reaches out and flattens against an invisible wall between them, fingers lightly bent, the way they didn't but did touch back then, across clicks and circumstances.
Touch me, it means, the best we can. ]
I can't give you the perfect answer. I don't think it exists, it's different for everyone.
[ And while he waits for Anakin to accept or refuse his held-out hand, Claude takes a moment to think it over in his mind. He has priorities and those are in and by themselves prioritized a certain way, he's learned to move his focus around, to the back and to the forefront. It keeps him from obsessing. If not from getting gnawed at by his own worry. It's a matter of acceptance. ]
I accept that I can't rule over my fear and neither can I always rule over the circumstances that are giving me those fears. Fear is a natural response to situations that are difficult to exist within. Fear isn't dangerous in itself. [ A pause. ] But at some point, I have to move my focus away from my fears, you know? Because if I want things to progress, I need to take care of myself, or I'll never be able to be something for you on the other side of it. [ Pause. ] And that you might not be there when that time comes...
[ A pause again, longer. Claude licks his lips. ]
By choosing to love you, I choose to run that risk. You know about risks, Anakin. Some of them, the possible success of it weighs more heavily than the possibility of failure. Right?
no subject
Fear is a natural response says Claude and that's something Anakin used to know as well, before he came to Coruscant and was taught about the dangers associated with it. Before that, fear had been a way to exist in a dangerous world and being afraid, as a slave, was wise. Alertness. The knowledge of consequences along with the possible gravity of them. Slowly, as Claude talks on, Anakin unclenches his metal fingers, his right upperarm trembling minutely at the strain. Then, he reaches out across the flickering blue hololight and entwines their fingers the best he can. It feels like nothing.
It is everything. ]
Right.
[ He's used to fixing things. It's all he's ever been good at, helping people, removing whichever obstacle's in their way to let them pass. Then, for the past two years, he's done the same for his Master, though it's felt like a mockery of what it used to. I can't rule over my fear says Claude and that's wise of him. That's one of the wisest things he's heard in a long, long while.
Anakin, however, must learn to rule over his, rather than trying to clear the path in front of it. It's an old, ingrained habit, something that says, be of use, be of use, be of use, no matter what it costs you.
He sighs. The tension bleeds from his shoulders. ]
Then, I will move my focus as well. [ He looks directly at Claude, gaze firm, despite the ache in his chest and the wetness rising in his eyes. ] To meet you on the other side.