Touch Starved

Chapter 17 - The Child

Author's Note: This was not supposed to be a full chapter. Originally, it was only supposed to be a few scenes and then Anakin and Obi-Wan would reunite, but... that didn't happen. Their reunion will be in the next chapter, I promise. ^-^

This chapter includes mentions of the Tatooine Slave Culture and Amatakka created by Fialleril. 

WARNING: Depression which is nothing new :)

~ Amina Gila

Anakin would have thought that talking to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would make him feel better. It doesn't. By the next morning, instead of feeling better, he somehow feels worse. The anxiety buzzing under his skin is stronger, more maddening, and it makes him miss everyone else in his family with an unparalleled fierceness. He's been forcing himself to keep moving through sheer willpower over the past few days, hyper focusing on each objective which he needs to accomplish to keep Tatooine safe.

Ever since killing Jabba, followed by his duel against Maul and Savage, it's been a whirlwind of activity and one thing after another constantly. Anakin likes it, of course, because it's distracting, but it's also extremely exhausting.

His... restlessness has only been growing over the past few days, and initially, he'd attributed it to taking a kyber crystal from one of the Siths' lightsabers and using it as the core of a new one for himself. As much as he likes his Jedi one, sometimes... it feels wrong to use a blue blade when he's playing the role of Darth Vader, and he hadn't wanted to bleed his crystal again. It was hard enough the first time, and he didn't think he could properly muster the level of hate that would be needed for such an endeavor.

Regardless, the lightsaber had not been the cause of his... current problems, leaving him to question if, in truth, the problem is about a lack of... human contact. He's still adjusting to having a body like this, and the first few days he spent with Obi-Wan helped to quell his desperate need to be in contact with other people. Going for ten years without it wasn't easy.

It's such a stupid thing to be bothered by.

All of his questions and tiredness vanish, however, when he awakens to find a tiny, pale red Twi'lek girl curled up against him. For a moment, he just stares at her in stupefaction because she was definitely not there last night. She wasn't. He would have remembered if she was. And that means that, sometime during the night, she wandered away from the group of slaves who he freed yesterday after talking to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and who had been staying in Jabba's former palace, and his current base of operations, and found him. Even though the palace is enormous. What are the chances of that? And why would she think to come here?

Anakin's initial reaction is panic because there's a tiny child with him. And he is... not good with children. At all. Maybe he used to be, but now? No. Just no. He does not want to interact with children more than is strictly necessary when he's helping rescue them. He doesn't deserve to, and more likely than not, he'll only end up hurting them. Still, there's nothing he can do right now, except carefully lift the tiny Twi'lek into his arms and go in search of Kitster.

The last thing he wants is to disturb her when she's sleeping so peacefully, but he can't just keep her here. She needs to go back to her family; she must have one somewhere since she's only around three. And Kitster will take care of that. He and Anakin had reunited, and Kitster has been helping them ever since. He's good at leading, and he's been the primary one, along with Sabe, who has been helping the freed slaves settle down, whether on-world or off-world.

Finding Kitster isn't hard, and Anakin tells him, in hushed tones, how he'd awoken to find the child with him. "We need to find her family," he finishes, as she stirs in his arms, eyelids fluttering and opening. She blinks up at him with violet eyes, not seeming the slightest bit disconcerted at his presence, which isn't surprising, given that she, for some reason, sought him out in the first place.