Candlelight

Chapter 2 - The Truth

"I am not lying."

"Hallucinating, perhaps," Obi-Wan replies dryly.

"It matters little if you refuse to believe me," he replies sharply, trying to push himself upright. (It's strange to be doing this, too.) It does matter, though, but he can't say so. "I must speak with the Council, Obi-Wan."

The Council, which will mean seeing the Temple again as how it once was. He doesn't know if he can do that. How can he go there, walk the Temple halls as if he is still a Jedi? He... technically is, but it doesn't feel like it. He may not trust them or believe in their... abilities anymore, but he cannot truly reaccept their name. How could he?

Obi-Wan is doubtful – Anakin can sense it, but to his credit, he doesn't argue. "After you are well."

"I am well." He feels fine. Better than fine. He's full of energy that he hasn't had in decades.

"You almost died," Ahsoka retorts flatly. "You're an idiot, Master. You used the Force too deeply. I didn't even know that was possible."

The sudden surge of blinding affection that consumes him was expected, but it still catches him off-guard. It's been so long since he's felt love, so long since he's felt the tiniest bit happy, except when he died. Now he can only savor it, hold onto it firmly, ingraining it into his mind forever. He'll never know when he'll feel it again.

"What were you doing?" Obi-Wan asks. "You know better than to use the Force in such a manner."

He didn't actually. He thought he was doing the same thing he always did as Vader. He didn't have time to weigh the pros and cons of it, not that he'd have done anything different if he did. "Did we get him?" he asks.

He feels his master's flare of absolute annoyance. "That is your first question?"

"What else should it be?"

"How," Obi-Wan asks, slowly, "Could you have made such a foolish mistake? You haven't overused the Force in years. You've long learned the simple thing of boundaries, Anakin."

He watches him in silence, unsure what to say. What should he? He hasn't had someone upset with him for trying too hard in years – it's only ever been not hard enough. Failure is always out of the question.

His position is strangely comfortable, though. He doesn't... remember how it felt to touch something soft. As Vader, he couldn't feel much of anything anymore. His nerves were... badly damaged, like everything else.

"It is urgent, Obi-Wan," he argues at last, breaking the awkward, momentary silence. "It concerns the galaxy. The future. Everything."

"We have both Ventress and Gunray, thanks to you," Ahsoka buds in, "But I think I'd have liked it better if you didn't nearly kill yourself to do it."

"There is peace in death," he finds himself saying.

Obi-Wan's annoyance spikes, mingled with a tinge of worry, more than Anakin has sensed from anyone about him in... a long time, other than Luke. Since Malachor. Quite simply put, he looks like he wants to slam his head onto something. Repeatedly. "Clearly, you are only half lucid," he snaps.

This is so much more complicated than Anakin had thought would be possible. How is he supposed to show them he's telling the truth? He doesn't know how to prove it. It's been too many years, and he hasn't thought about the war. He doesn't know what's about to happen or... anything. "They must know," he argues. "Sidious – he will destroy everything." He doesn't know if he would have succeeded without Anakin... Vader's help. He might be able to move past it himself, might still be able to do good, but that doesn't mean Sidious will change his plans.