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."
"So, what's the plan?" asks Anakin, letting his hood fall back. He runs a hand through his hair, considering their options. It's nice to be able to force his mind to focus on something other than his pain and fear. He's privately surprised that Dooku let him remain secluded as long as he did. Attacking the Chancellor in the Senate could be very risky. The security there is immensely strong. It would take a carefully laid plan to succeed, not to mention inevitably being labeled as a traitor until such time as Palpatine's guilt could be definitively proven to the Senate and the galaxy as a whole.
"We have no choice but to go after Sidious on Coruscant, however, we will need further assistance," Dooku explains.
Uh oh. For some reason, Anakin doesn't like the sound of that. Dooku's expression is steely, hinting that he won't accept any arguments, and whatever he's planning to say won't be well received. No. He can't be planning to choose – He couldn't be that cruel, could he?
"I understand," Anakin says carefully, narrowing his eyes.
"I know this might be hard, but I think we should enlist the help of Master Kenobi." There's a tinge of sympathy in his brown eyes as he looks at Anakin.
"No!" Anakin explodes, "Absolutely not!" There's no way he can possibly be expected to see, much less work with, Obi-Wan after only a few short days. He knows he couldn't handle it emotionally.
"Skywalker –" begins Dooku, sounding somewhat regretful.
"No!" yells Anakin, interrupting him, something he would never do if he was in his right mind. An anger he didn't realize he had ignites, and he clenches his fists. Obi-Wan hurt him. Terribly. There's no way Dooku can be expecting him to get over it in so short a time. He knows rationally that he needs to be able to put aside his emotions for the betterment of the galaxy, but this – this is personal.
The Count sighs, looking somewhat exasperated, but Anakin doesn't really care. He can't talk to Obi-Wan. Not right now. Everything is still too raw. Dooku appears ready to continue the argument when the sound of beeping interrupts, signaling an incoming transmission.
In an instant, Dooku's expression becomes grave. "It's Sidious," he warns, "If you want to remain in the room, stay on the side and shield your presence."
Anakin stiffens imperceptibly, nodding silently. He rises, stepping to a corner of the room, where he pulls his hood back up and leans against the wall, crossing him arms. Reaching out to the Force, he draws it close, cloaking himself. Seemingly satisfied, Dooku receives the transmission after shifting his position and dropping to one knee submissively. Anakin can't help but feel sick, knowing that it could have been him there if not for the fact that he agreed to help Dooku eliminate Sidious.
"Lord Tyrannus," Sidious' dark voice rasps, "I have heard rumors that Skywalker has killed himself, but I know he still lives." Right now, he sounds nothing like what Anakin remembered. The darkness in his voice is enough to send shivers down Anakin's spine. Even though he knows Sidious can't see him, he still presses further away from the transmission. The last thing he wants is to accidently alert the Sith to his presence.
"I have heard nothing," Dooku replies quietly.
"I do not know where he has gone," Sidious continues, almost as though he never heard his apprentice's comment, "But I want you to find him. Do not fail me, Lord Tyannus. I want you to capture Skywalker at any cost. If necessary, you can use Kenobi to draw him out of hiding. That man has been a thorn in my side since the beginning, and I would not be upset if he met... an unfortunate fate."
"I understand, my Master," answers Dooku, bowing his head.
"Good," chuckles Sidious, "See to it, my apprentice." With those words, he disconnects the transmission.
With the call is over, Anakin can't restrain the snarl that escapes him. He's inexplicably furious that Sidious has such a callous attitude towards Obi-Wan and wants him dead, even though Anakin's still angry at his father, his brother, his best friend. He starts pacing back and forth, completely ignoring Dooku as he tries to bring his raging emotions back under control.
"Skywalker, we need a new strategy," Dooku interrupts Anakin's pacing. "We're running out of time." His expression conveys how troubled he is.
"You don't say," mutters Anakin throwing himself into a chair and pretending he doesn't notice the Count's reproving expression. Groaning, he rubs his temple in an attempt at staving off an imminent headache. Dealing with so many Sith is making his head hurt. Yes, something must be done and fast. Maybe he will have to swallow his pride – what pride? – and agree to let Obi-Wan help them... even if he's much rather jump into a river of lava or feed himself to a gundark.
"I know you don't want Master Kenobi's help, and I am not certain if he will help us, but it will take both of us to convince him," Dooku tells Anakin, folding his arms on the top of his desk. "I will not listen to any further arguments on the manner. We will have work what we have, or all will be lost." He pauses, and Anakin sullenly nods, because he knows and understands what the Count is saying even if he doesn't like it. "Then you may leave." Dooku waves a hand dismissively, calling after him when he's half-way out of the room. "You might want to consider going outside. Staying in your quarters isn't doing you any favors."
Anakin clenches his jaw at the unsolicited advice, walking out without looking back. Logically Dooku is right, but...
He goes back to his room.
***
Two days. It's been two days, and he's heard no word of Skywalker. Dooku has also remained silent, and the reason for that is beyond him. Sidious wouldn't be surprised if his apprentice is plotting against him, for thus is the way of the Sith. Perhaps it's time to give Dooku another call. The Count won't answer anything directly, but Sidious will still be able to discern his probable intentions or plans.
Motioning to his guards to ensure he's not disturbed, Sidious withdraws his secret, private communicator and enters Dooku's frequency. He answers almost immediately, a sure sign that he must be in his office or at least not too distracted. Or maybe he doesn't want his master to become suspicious; Sidious is not certain.
"Lord Tyrannus," he begins darkly, picking and choosing his words with caution. Even though Dooku bowed as normal and nothing in his attitude indicates that he's plotting treason, Sidious can sense that something is amiss in the Force. "I have heard rumors that Skywalker has killed himself, but I know he still lives."
"I have heard nothing," Dooku replies quietly, obviously referring to the latter part of the statement. The rumors of Skywalker's death have spread like wild, and while he hasn't personally looked, Sidious has heard that the speculations as to his whereabouts have swept through the holonews.
"I do not know where he has gone," Sidious continues in a slow, measured tone, even as he probes outwards with the Force, "But I want you to find him. Do not fail me, Lord Tyannus. I want you to capture Skywalker at any cost." He pauses slightly, considering his options. If he's right, and Dooku does indeed have Skywalker, then he must be vigilant. "If necessary, you can use Kenobi to draw him out of hiding. That man has been a thorn in my side since the beginning, and I would not be upset if he met... an unfortunate fate."
For all intents and purposes, that's an order that Dooku have Kenobi eliminated once and for all. It's not something which he expects the Count will do, and if he doesn't, he'll act on his own. More than likely, Dooku will try – and succeed if he has Skywalker – to recruit Kenobi to his cause. They'll launch an attack on Sidious personally. He's not concerned. He has many cards which he can use to divide them, singling out the boy to make him his own.
"I understand, my Master," answers Dooku, bowing his head.
"Good," chuckles Sidious, "See to it, my apprentice." With those words, he disconnects the transmission, a cold, cruel smile spreading across his face as he imagines the moment that Skywalker kneels at his feet despite Kenobi's protests and pleas. Oh, the joy. The victory. He'll relish the opportunity to rub the victory in Kenobi's face before killing him before his erstwhile apprentice's eyes. Kenobi will be dead. Dooku will join him. And Skywalker will be his. He'll lay the galaxy at his new master's feet.
***
The weather matches Anakin's mood, rain drizzling relentlessly from the dark clouds hanging overhead. After a long internal debate, he drags himself outside, one of the first times he's voluntarily left his guest quarters since the debacle on Naboo. Dooku is busy – or he's tired of badgering him; he only made one comment about going outside, and that was yesterday. Either way, Anakin has some freedom to act as he pleases. He goes outside, letting the rain fall on him and soak into his clothes.
It's soothing in a way, as if the Force itself is echoing his pain, and maybe it is. He has noticed a strange connection between when he's severely distressed emotionally, and sometimes even physically, and the rain. He supposes it's not all that strange, not if all the legends on Tatooine have truth to them. Anakin pushes those thoughts aside unwilling to consider any possibility that he may be foretold to free the slaves on his home planet. He already has one title and no way of fulfilling the prophecy when he doesn't even know what it means. He neither needs not wants to take on another title and the burden which inevitably comes with it.
Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back, letting the rain land on his face. It calms him somehow, taking the edge off his despair. He doesn't want Obi-Wan to come here, to disturb the sort of solitude which he has, to criticize him for his actions and mistakes. Minutes pass before Anakin impulsively unbuckles and removes the leather glove covering his prosthetic – the one Dooku gave to him, at least from a certain point of view – tossing it to a nearby bench. The rain drips on the metal, tinkling melodically, even if he can't feel it.
He doesn't know how long he's out there before he senses the dark swirling presence of Dooku approaching. Anakin turns, blinking rain – and maybe tears – out of his eyes, to look at the Count. He's standing a few paces away, somewhat in the shelter of a tree, though he appears unbothered by the rain. They look at one another for a long moment.
"It's good to see you out," Dooku states at last. His tone is neutral, but Anakin is certain he can feel just the slightest bit of concern in the Force.
It rankles; they were supposed to be enemies, and yet, despite all the hostility between them, Dooku is worried about him. Is it because of their shared interests or because he actually cares? Anakin prefers to think the former. He doesn't know what he would do if it came to a point where Dooku actually cared about him.
His clenches his right hand, jerking in surprise when it sends a stinging jolt of pain up his arm. He lifts it, experimentally flexing his fingers and opting to ignore Dooku's comment, pretending that his hand is far more fascinating. It's not exactly far from the truth. He does prefer mechanics over many things, including Dooku's company. To Anakin's annoyance, he realizes that something must have been shorted out by the rain – the limb's response time is slow and it's not at maximum capacity. He thought he'd fixed how finicky it was in water a long time ago. Maybe the wires are simply wearing out.
"You should come in," Dooku offers, breaking the silence between them which had been filled with naught but the sound of rain pattering on the ground and plants around them. "I'm sure there are plenty of tools and supplies with you can use to repair your arm."
Anakin huffs out an irritated breath. "I have you to thank for even needing to repair it," he bites out sharply. He doubts he'll ever be comfortable in the Count's presence, and nor does he want to be. They're simply working together for convenience.
Dooku is quiet again, even longer than previously. "I... regret cutting off your arm, but regrets change nothing." His brown eyes are somber. "Your recklessness never ceases to astound me," he continues after a beat of silence, lips twitching into a smile. "I would have thought you knew the risks of exposing delicate machinery to rain."
Anakin gives him look which could probably be best described as petulant. "I fixed that part of it," he grumbles, using the Force to call his leather glove back to his hand, as they walk back towards the mansion together. He feels something inside of him loosen a little at the interaction. They aren't exactly enemies anymore; they've reached a sort of truce with one another, though he wouldn't go so far as to call them friends. It's better than the constant fighting they were doing until Anakin agreed to come here, and for the first time in a while, Anakin actually feels somewhat content.
As always, the feelings are fleeting, lasting for hardly more than a moment.