Living a Lie {Anakin Skywalker x Reader}

45

"She's stirring," I hear Obi-Wan say. 

The soft hum vibrating throughout my body is familiar. I must be on a ship.

I open my eyes to see Obi-Wan looking at me. He is sitting on a stool next to my bed. He offers a sad smile. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it. 

It doesn't hit me immediately, but suddenly visions of him and Anakin - no, not Anakin; just a man who looked like Anakin - flood my vision. The memories sting.

No. They couldn't be memories. They were dreams. Nightmares. They were not real. But as I attempt to speak, my throat throbs. I reach up to feel my neck, pressing down on the tender skin.

"No, don't do that," Obi-Wan suggests, pushing my hand away from my neck.

Those nightmares were not imaginary. They were real. Those visions were my memory. 

My face must have registered my realization, because Obi-Wan's sad smile drops and looks as if he is about to speak. I rip my hand out of his grip and slap him across the face.

I expected a slap back. I expected him to yell. I expected him to scold me, tell me how immature I am. Ask me how dare I slap him.

"I deserve that," he says, casting his eyes down toward his lap. "You didn't deserve to go through any of that. I understand how you may feel right now."

I look at him, stunned. Why was he patronizing me? Was he trying to get under my skin? Was he trying to make me angry? Was he trying to get me to hate him more than I had grown to in this short amount of time?

But as I studied his face, I didn't see any clue of cruelty. He looked genuinely sympathetic. He looked sad himself. As if he had lost just as much as I did.

He was empathetic.

What happened on Mustafar after I lost consciousness?

As if reading my mind, Obi-Wan cleared my confusion. "After he let go of you, we fought. It was a fair match, so it lasted quite a while. But he was so strong, (Y/N). Stronger than me. Stronger than you." He sighed, burying his face into his hands. In a muffled voice, he continued, "I don't know how he achieved such power." Taking his face out of his hands, he looked at me. He was crying. "He was using the power of the Sith."

I tried to speak. Just to tell him that he was wrong. That he didn't know what he was talking about. But my voice strained. My throat was on fire.

"Don't push it," Obi-Wan said, setting his hand on my cheek. He sighed, continuing, "I know you don't believe me, (Y/N). But you saw what I saw. You know he is gone."

I wanted to shake my head. To yell at him. To hit him, to scream and ask how he could even think such things about Anakin, let alone say them aloud. 

He couldn't be gone. But I knew the truth.

"He is out of our control." Obi-Wan let out a shaky breath. This wasn't easy for him to talk about, either. "Anakin is dead."

I wanted to react. But I couldn't. Despite my lack of emotions to the news, I felt pieces of my heart chipping away. As if someone was taking a hammer and hitting it, cracking the edges and letting it reach the center. As much as I knew it was true, I didn't want to accept it. But I had to. Anakin was gone. Anakin was dead.

I was as good as dead, too.

8 MONTHS LATER

I stare at the wall, trying to imagine what the Jedi had experienced on that day. What their last thoughts were. Whether they understood what was going on. Whether they knew that the Clones had turned against them.