Trial of the Times

Chapter 13 - Interim - Rewritten

Anakin has been expecting Dooku to come to his door for past two days, but that doesn't mean he is looking forwards to it. When he hears knocking firmly on the door, he doesn't need to reach out with the Force to feel who's there.

"Open the door, Skywalker," the Sith Lord's muffled, demanding voice brooks no refusal.

Groaning, Anakin rolls over in his bed, using the Force to unlock the door. He has no intention of moving, even for a Sith Lord. Dooku opens it, stepping inside, a determined expression on his face. "You need to get up and do something," states the Count, "You've been in here for the past three days. You are drowning yourself in self-pity. Get up. Use your emotions. Focus on the end goal. Until Sidious is dead, no one will be safe."

The words ignite a spark of anger, the first real emotion which he's felt other than apathy or misery for the past couple days. He sits up with a jerk, well aware of his rather disheveled appearance. "You don't know what it's like," Anakin bursts out, the pent-up confusion and pain lashing out at the nearest convenient target... who also happens to be a Sith Lord. Oops? "How can you just expect me to forget?"

It probably goes without saying that he's not been able to sleep properly, his nightmares haunted by images of Obi-Wan's death and of the countless losses he's faced throughout the war. He probably doesn't look too good, come to think of it.

"Calm yourself, Skywalker," snaps Dooku, ice in his voice, "You can't live like this. You can't stay in here, locking yourself away from the world. It's not going to change what happened!"

"And maybe I don't want to live at all," hisses Anakin, deliberately turning his back on him, in a pointed gesture to indicate that he feels the conversation is over.

"You don't mean that," Dooku replies quietly, yet firmly.

Actually, he thinks hysterically, now that he's said it, he realizes exactly how much he does mean that. What wouldn't he give to be allowed the reprieve of nothingness? He doesn't look back at the Count, the tension never fading from his body. It'll be proof enough to Dooku that he meant what he said. "Go away. Just go away, and leave me alone, Dooku," he responds lowly. Hard though he tries, he can't hide the darkness and despair in his tone.

Dooku shifts, but he doesn't leave. Anakin had hoped, though he doubted. "We need to make a plan to destroy Sidious," the Count declares at last. "The only way we can get him is by going to Coruscant. I want you in my office within thirty minutes. Do not make me come get you again." With those words, he turns and strides out of the room.

Anakin knows better than to resist; he heard the implicit warning in the words, and he won't test Dooku's patience any further. Groaning, Anakin slides out of bed. It's true. He has been brooding in his room for the past two days, and he'd known Dooku wouldn't let him get away with it forever. Until they destroy Sidious, he'll be expected to help. That's not what troubles him. It's what happens afterwards.

Though he's nowhere near as broken as when he'd discovered Obi-Wan's betrayal, he's still hurting. Slowly, he's healing. Too slowly. But he hasn't been alone. Artoo has been with him, offering comfort in the way only a droid can. It's too bad humans can't be more like that little astromech. He often seems to be more caring than sentients.

Muttering under his breath, Anakin makes himself presentable, pulling on a black cloak and putting the hood up over his head. He simply doesn't have the energy to put on his armor, not that it's a big deal since it's not as though they'll be meeting anyone – hopefully. For that matter, he doesn't really have the energy to do anything. He heads straight to Dooku's office. No sense in making the Sith Lord angry at him.

Dooku looks pleased when he appears within ten minutes. "Sit," he invites, and Anakin readily sinks into a chair. "We need to discuss our next move."