Angels Like You | (Out of Date)

Chapter 36

"No! Anakin, I would never—"

"Then leave me alone," He seethed.

Later that night he had come to her room to apologize. He held her cheek in his hand and hugged her, whispering "I'm sorry's" and "I have to figure things out." She could feel his fingers in her hair, holding her head to his chest. She wished that she could stay there, that things could go back to how they were before she had ruined him. Something told her, as he pulled away, that something was changing between them indefinitely.

That was two weeks ago. Now, she can take the walls of the Temple no longer. When she wakes up, she doesn't bother checking Anakin's room. He will not be there. He won't be back until later in the night, reeking of the Force and its power, his eyes dull and a little less blue than the last time she saw him.

She calls a single-pilot ship to the loading bay, taxis out of the Temple runway, and ventures out to the furthest reaches of Coruscant's city. The buildings thin, more trees begin to appear until eventually there is a small acre of lush, free, green land, untouched by the planet-sized metropolis. She sits there until the sun begins to set, wondering how things got away from her so fast. She questions her thoughts about Anakin, about the darkness in him, if it exists the way that the Council says it does. It breaks her heart to think about it.

Her fighter, her hero, the one person in the world she's never doubted. Anakin's heart burns bright as an evening star, and fierce as a forest fire in the height of summer. He is her Prince Charming, the only person who could ever belong in a storybook, the only one who's capable of becoming legend.

He is hers. Hers. He does not belong within the clutches of fear, or jealousy, or any other form of darkness that can take hold of the soul. He could never belong to the Dark Side. He is bravery, and loyalty, and light, wrapped in gold and bathed in life.

The Dark Side is death. He could never belong to that.

"Your thoughts sure are warm and fuzzy for a Jedi."

Phaedris's familiar soft, deep voice sounds from behind her. Circe doesn't bother to stand for him, only glaring out at the horizon.

"You shouldn't be here," She answers.

"Relax," He says, "I'm here to help you."

She whips her head around to look at him, her face darkening. "Help me? I can't fight because of the poison you injected me with. Leave. Now, Phaedris. Before I decide I want to make you pay for what you've done to me."

They both know that that last sentence is not about the poison.

Phaedris looks away from her. Where anger and spite would normally be, a sadness overcomes his face, and he is quiet for a long time before speaking again.

"I tried to stop him," He says quietly. "And I tried to make you leave, Circe. You wouldn't listen to me."

"You think it was my fault?"

He gives her a frustrated look, his eyes soft and genuine. "I told you to go! I tried to keep you from harm as best I could," The emotion in him disappears, "But it doesn't matter. None of it ever did."

He is still wounded from discovering the truth about Sidious. And Anakin.

"Don't humiliate yourself further, my boy. You know you've never been worthy of being my replacement. Deep down, you have always known it."

The words burn like a white-hot wire rod in his side. His rage, his disappointment, his regret, they plague him like heavy, dark storm clouds rolling across the sea. But Circe—calm, confused Circe—her presence washes over him like cool water erasing his pain.

She doesn't know it, but she has calmed Phaedris's storm for the time being. He is afraid, and hurt, and vulnerable, and though it was never her intent to break his cruel-shell, cracks are splintering across his heart.

Perhaps there could be good in him, still.

She shakes her head at him, turning away. "Get out of here, Phaedris. The Council wants you arrested for everything you've done. It would be in your best interest to go before I decide to turn you in."

"But then you won't get to hear about what's happening to Anakin right now," He tests, watching her closely.

She quiets, her mind working quickly, fighting with itself over whether to be alarmed, suspicious, or both.

Her immediate intrigue makes Phaedris giddy. She is the key to making sure Anakin never becomes the person Sidious wants him to. She will make everything right again.

"You already know, Circe," He says softly.

"No."

"Don't lie to yourself."

She snarls angrily, her eyes ablaze, "You're just like everyone else. What could you know? Just give up already, Phaedris!"

"I know that he's with my Master right now, becoming his new apprentice as we speak. I know that you've ignored it on purpose. Because I know that losing him is the only thing you fear," He says, watching as she slips further into rage.

Underneath all that fiery temper, doubt is beginning to blossom behind her black eyes. She, too, begins to splinter and crack, as her mind begins to put everything together.

"He's been different, hasn't he?" He presses.

She shakes her head. "He's scared," She cries, "He's scared because of what you did to me!"

"He was different before that, Circe. You're not stupid."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You noticed it. How he'd react strangely when you questioned him, the way he changed around you, how he stopped telling you everything."

"That's not— that's different!" Her voice is shrill.

Phaedris presses closer. "He lied to you, Circe!"

She backs away, getting to her feet. "No!"

"You know the Council is right, and I think you know that if he's turned it's your fault. Your fault for keeping them from helping him."

"Phaedris, stop—"

"You've known it all this time. He's changed. You've lost him. He's become everything you promised everyone he wouldn't."

"STOP!" She screams, her hands flying to her ears, "STOP, STOP, STOP!"

There are tears in her eyes now, and for a moment, he feels bad for what he's done. But this will make things right again, and like her, Phaedris is blind. He can only see what he wants, and Circe must pay the price.

"Go to him," He says softly, a terrible glint shining in his eyes. "You know how to find him."

She looks at him defiantly, her tears like embers in the dark of her eyes. "You're wrong about him. I'm going to prove it to you."

With that, she shoves past him and climbs into the cockpit of her ship, wiping at her eyes furiously. As she takes off, Phaedris sits in the grass, patient and waiting for everything to go wrong.