Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The pyre devoured the broken corpse within its maw. Flame licked at the black suit, melting it away and tasting the twice-burnt flesh beneath it. It left naught but ash in is wake, thick, dark smoke drifting away into the otherwise clear night sky.

It was odd, Anakin mused, to watch his body burn for a second time and feel nothing of it. All he felt was the cool calm of the Force as it swirled around him and the Force signatures of the two ghosts beside him.

His son, Luke, smiled at them. Anakin returned it half-heartedly, grieving not for himself, but for the life his children could've had. Leia came up behind Luke, her cheeks rosy from smiling as she pulled him back to the celebration.

All he'd ever accomplished in his life was a string of betrayals. Until the very end, he had turned on everyone who'd ever meant something to him.

But as he looked upon his children, Padmé's children, smiling and celebrating the New Republic's victory over his very own Empire, he shook those dark thoughts from his head. He'd long thought there was no good left within him, but Luke and Leia's existence proved that wrong.

Anakin stood and watched even as Yoda wandered off, fading away as he went, and as Obi-Wan stirred, his spectral robes rustling. He waited for the other Jedi to leave, eyes firmly locked onto the fire.

"You came back," the old Jedi's voice, so unfamiliar to him now, surprised him.

Anakin could not bring himself to look at his former Master, guilt settling around him like a well-worn cloak. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered their last living meeting. He had spent so long telling himself that slaying Obi-Wan would remove his last tie to the light, freeing him from that ever-present whisper at the back of his mind telling him it wasn't too late. But even felling his one-sided nemesis, nothing had changed. That endless pit within him never filled.

"Nothing I can say will ever make up for all of the suffering I have caused." Anakin said, his heart twisting in his chest. At once, he was no longer the man of forty-five he'd been when he died. Instead, he was the young boy who had once so desperately wanted to make his Master proud. "Nonetheless, I am so, so sorry, Master…"

Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, the weight of it so strange against his spectral image. It was cool, just like everything else in the Force. He finally looked to the old Jedi, who looked at him without an ounce of hatred.

"I forgave you long ago, my wayward Padawan." Obi-Wan's eyes crinkled as his smiled wearily. "As have the others."

Anakin looked away. "I don't know that what I have done can be forgiven."

The Jedi removed his hand, tucking it neatly back into his sleeve. "Yet forgiven, you remain."

The former Sith turned his gaze back to the pyre. The last time he and Obi-Wan had watched a pyre together, it had been Qui-Gon Jinn's.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, "what if I told you that there may be a way to make things right?"

Anakin smiled, wan. "Would that I could."

Obi-Wan smirked. A strange chill ran down Anakin's spine, as if a Tendril of the Force's will had reached out and touched him, prompting him onward.

"There are many things, Padawan, that you do not know." The old Jedi stepped away, nodding with his head to signal Anakin to follow. "Come. There is much to discuss."

Anakin cast a glance back to his children. Luke and Leia looked so much like their mother. If there was truly a way to save her, to save everyone, he knew he had to take it. To try.

He turned back to the Jedi.

"Very well." Anakin agreed.

The Force ghosts walked away from the orange glow of the pyre and into the dense forests of Endor. No leaves crunched beneath their slippers, no leaves stirred from their passing. As if they weren't there at all.

"Since my passing, I have spent much time communing with the Force." Obi-Wan explained. Anakin cringed at the mention of that fateful day, when he had killed his former Master. The old Jedi spoke wistfully. "I have spent countless hours turning over every moment in my mind. What was the final straw? When did I go wrong? When was my last, crucial failure? You claimed that I had not killed you, Anakin, but could I have prevented your Fall?"

Anakin grimaced. "I was never your failure, Obi-Wan. I've told you as much more than once."

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "Perhaps, perhaps not."

Anakin looked firmly at his boots, the forest floor visible through his transparent blue form.

"We cannot rewrite the past, nor can we erase the consequences of our actions. Not in this timeline, at least."

"Timeline?" Anakin cast an incredulous glance to Obi-Wan.

The old Jedi gestured up at the night sky twinkling at them through the canopy.

"Our timeline is but one of many. They are as numerous as stars in the galaxy. Diverging, coalescing... like threads, spinning together and fraying apart." He turned his wizened gaze back to his former Padawan, a note of finality in his voice. "Our story is written... but I have devised a way to transmit a message to another timeline, like Leia's recording on Artoo."

Anakin's head spun. He stared open-mouthed at Obi-Wan.

"I am not powerful enough to complete this task alone." The Jedi paused for a moment as they came to a stop before a placid lake, its gently rippling surface dancing with stars. "But with your raw power, it may very well be possible."

The former Sith studied the surface of the lake. It always came back down to him, didn't it? His power. He was the Chosen One, after all. A surge of bitterness overtook him.

"Let me guess," Anakin snapped, "through a Force vision, right? Because that worked out so well the first time."

Obi-Wan averted his gaze. Oily guilt replaced the bitterness, and Anakin clenched his fists.

"I am truly sorry, Anakin." Obi-Wan said thickly. "As you said earlier, nothing I can say will right my past wrongs. That ink has dried. But I would like to believe that we have changed for the better, you and I both. You are correct that Force visions could not save us in this timeline, but if we play it just right, they may be able to in another."

Anakin fought the urge to argue, to throw the Jedi's platitudes back in his face. Instead, he sighed, allowing the anger and guilt to ebb away into the eddies of the Force.

"Tell me," Obi-Wan said softly, "what guides you, Anakin?"

"The Force." Anakin replied automatically.

The old Jedi raised an eyebrow as he corrected, "Your heart, my Padawan."

"That's not the way of the Jedi." Anakin retorted. And truly, weren't the Jedi correct in the end? His heart had led him to ruin.

“The way of the Jedi has been lost for many centuries,” Obi-Wan's curled lip belied his true thoughts on the matter.

Anakin watched the reflections on the lake, mulling over the Jedi's claims. Behind them, the dull roar of the celebration had faded until he could hardly hear it over the wind whispering through the trees, casting small ripples across the surface of the lake.

"My greatest regret," Obi-Wan admitted, "will always be how I failed you when you needed me most, Anakin."

Anakin closed his eyes. "I was rotten from the start, Obi-Wan. Planted by Darth Plagueis to decimate the Jedi."

Obi-Wan reared back, confusion plain. "You were not created by the Sith, Anakin. The Force seeded you to return Balance."

The former Sith couldn't help but laugh at the absurd irony. "Well, that certainly went according to plan."

His former Master watched him warily, as one would a cornered animal. Even in death, he simply could not help but feed into his own misery.

Anakin looked back to the stars. "Tell me your plan."

Obi-Wan accepted the olive branch gracefully, as he always did. "If our vision is shared, it's more likely that we will accept it as true."

"Our vision?" Anakin asked.

Was altering their own fates even the right course?

"Surely warning Master Yoda would be more prudent." The green Jedi was centuries old. If they intervened early enough in Yoda’s timeline, he’d be able to prevent Anakin even being born. And wouldn’t that do far more for the galaxy than altering his own timeline?

"You are the Chosen One." Obi-Wan said simply. "And I was the skeptic."

Anakin's mouth twisted. "The Chosen One for the Sith, maybe."

"The Force brought you into being for a reason, Anakin." Obi-Wan snapped, and Anakin recoiled instinctively.

The old Jedi stared back at him with wide eyes, as if shocked at his own outburst, and then exhaled wearily. "Bickering will solve nothing."

"How will this even work?" Anakin asked, cowed.

“We must decide which moment was the beginning.” Obi-Wan gestured to the lake’s surface with his spectral hand. “Where must the timeline deviate?”

The beginning?

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan, whose gaze remained firmly on the lake. They had been so close, once. Two halves of a whole. When had that gone wrong?

"When we met," Anakin said finally. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to his own.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan’s voice softened, as if he’d picked up on Anakin’s meaning. He closed his eyes, and reached out for the Force, twisting strands together as he had described earlier. Anakin felt a tug at his mind, his heart, as Obi-Wan quipped, “Let’s start, shall we?”

Chapter Text

Anakin barreled onto the gleaming silver starship, stumbling over his words as well as his feet as he screamed and pointed, incoherently trying to spur the Padawan staring at him incredulously into action to save Qui-Gon. He pointed behind himself insistently, to where Qui-Gon was locked in combat with the cloaked figure that had chased them across the dunes of Tatooine.

Luckily, it seemed that Anakin's blubbering had finally broke through to the young man, who raced into the cockpit, giving the order to take off. The pilot acted at once, steering the ship toward the duel, lowering the ramp as they approached. Anakin's heart raced, thumping in time with his footsteps as he raced toward the belly of the ship. The Padawan was hot on his heels, and Anakin hoped against all hope that the Jedi had survived.

He rounded the corner, a sense of relief washing over him as he saw Qui-Gon sprawled on the floor, exhausted yet in one piece.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he knelt next to the Jedi. He felt lightheaded, blood still rushing in his ears as Qui-Gon sat up, heaving for air.

"I think so," Qui-Gon replied.

"What was it?" The Padawan asked.

Qui-Gon's expression was drawn as he replied. "I'm not sure, but it was well trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is, it was after the Queen."

"What are we gonna do about it?" Anakin was terrified. If that thing had been strong enough to wear out a Jedi Master, he hesitated to think on what it could have done to him had he been alone.

"We should be patient," Qui-Gon said, and then leaned forward. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi." He gestured between them, and the Padawan extended a hand for Anakin to shake.

Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why was that name familiar?

Blue eyes met, and as their hands touched, it was as if the floor had fallen from beneath his feet.

The Jedi Master watched his two charges in alarm as they slumped to the ground, eyes rolling back into their heads, while Artoo screamed.

Around them, the Force became near-tangible maelstrom. He had never once felt anything like it. He reached toward his bond with his Padawan.

A terrible feeling settled within him as he realized the bond had gone silent. His gaze turned to his young charge.

"Anakin?" He said uselessly, feeling for the child's pulse. It was there, in fact, his heart seemed fit to burst out of his chest. He lay his fingers on Obi-Wan's neck, and found the same.

The Force sang sweetly, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not break through its winds to reach either of them.

The Force swelled like a wave, crashing over Obi-Wan and plunging him into darkness.

He saw nothing.

The Padawan reached out with the Force, scanning is surroundings, but there was only emptiness.

As if he were adrift in the vacuum between stars.

Panic curled in his chest, and he closed his eyes, releasing it into the Force with a breath.

Searching his mind, he found a small, unfamiliar tether at the edge, barely-there. As he brushed against it, another spike of fear shot through him. How odd.

"Hello?" He called into the nothingness, not particularly expecting a response. The void swallowed his words, leaving not even the barest hint of an echo.

This must be a Force vision, he thought, but of what?

He tried to turn, though it was impossible to tell if he were truly moving or not. The void did not change, it was simply there.

Just within his periphery, a blue glow sprang into being. He spun toward it, heart pounding in his chest. He was too distracted to attempt to purge his rising anxiety.

The glow materialized into a thread, coiling gently toward him.

His eyes narrowed. Feeling it through the Force, there was something about it… something wrong.

He tried to move away from it, but found that he could not.

As the tendril slowly reached out to touch him, its cool embrace washed over him like a stream of water. A burst of Force energy bled out of it into him, and with it came a barrage of emotions not his own.

A chasm of guilt opened in his chest. In its depths, a soul-crushing grief devoured everything around it like a black hole.

"I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you."

Obi-Wan froze as he recognized the disembodied voice that now echoed in his mind.

"You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"

His own voice, ragged and broken, shouted. That black hole in his chest grew as a terrible realization dawned on him. Anakin Fell? The boy? He knew Qui-Gon believed in prophecy, and that Anakin's midi-chlorian count was the highest ever recorded. His Master's intent was to see the boy trained as a Jedi, but if he were doomed to Fall…?

"You were my brother, Anakin." Terrible, unknowable pain tore through him. "I loved you."

The words washed over him. What?

He attempted to shake the tendril free. Perhaps if he managed to dislodge it, the voices, the endless onslaught of pain and suffering and guilt would end.

Yet as he shook his arm, the tendril only tightened.

"I am not your failure, Obi-Wan." This second voice was new, a painful wheeze present between the syllables. Unfamiliar as it was, it still twisted his heart into knots.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find his center, to release these horrible feelings into the Force.

But there… A single, gently flickering flame, bright as a star, danced at the edge of the event horizon. It twinkled at him, stubbornly refusing to disappear into the maw of grief and guilt.

As he inspected it, its warmth radiated through him.

"You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you." His disembodied voice said warmly. A sharp departure from the shame and grief, yet… Jedi were not supposed to show such attachment. "I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."

He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat as the flame grew into a tiny sun, orbiting the black hole.

Its golden-red glow sang a dirge so sweetly, radiating hope and love despite its desolate surroundings.

Seemingly satisfied, the thread released him.

His mind quieted, the black hole and tiny sun not gone, but subdued.

He opened his eyes, and the light returned.

Anakin jolted upright, a thick, oppressive fog shrouding his surroundings. Screams and explosions echoed in the distance, but no matter how hard he looked, whether he squinted his eyes or opened them as wide as they would go, he saw nothing.

Fear crawled up the back of his neck like a spider.

Something whizzed past his ear, flying off far into the distance. He whirled, trying to locate the source of the object, but still, nothing revealed itself to him.

"Hello?" He called, trembling as he took a half-step forward. His voice echoed, but it was quickly drowned by the din. The sound of armored footsteps grew closer, and Anakin spun once more, desperately trying to orient himself.

The sound of footsteps began to fade, and he tried to chase after them. The screaming grew louder too, but still, nothing. It was all nothing.

He stopped, crouching and burying his face in his knees, cradling his head with his arms to try and block out the sounds that surrounded him.

A thin blue tendril sprang into view, its cool, calming touch soothing him. As the tendril wrapped around him, the sounds began to fade, and the fog began to dissipate. Instead of fog, there was simply a dark void, like empty space.

But then, the soothing calm turned constricting, and panic welled in his chest and he struggled to break free. Just as he thought it was too late, the thread snapped. He fell to the ground hard, wheezing as the air was knocked out of him.

Muffled voices returned, just barely unintelligible. They sounded as if they were arguing. Anakin pushed himself to his knees, tears welling in his eyes. He just wanted to go home.

He squeezed his eyes shut as a storm of emotions roiled around him. The last thing he had seen before being taken to this strange place was the Padawan.

Obi-Wan Kenobi. Stars, that name was familiar. Why? Who was Obi-Wan?

The voices grew louder, yet still Anakin could not understand. Hot tears slipped from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. He clenched his fists, squeezing his fingernails into his palms.

Suddenly, one voice broke through as the tendril returned, circling around his ankle. This time, it was warm like the Tatooine sun, and the male voice sounded like his mother's did when she bragged about his skill.

"You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you. I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."

The words echoed in his head. It sounded oddly familiar. A flame of hope burned in his chest as they sank in. Not only had he become a Jedi, but he'd been a great one.

But, why wasn't it Qui-Gon's voice saying those things? Qui-Gon had said he was going to train him. Had something happened?

The flame flickered out, and the dark embrace of fear returned.

The same voice now screamed at him. "You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"

The anger and pain in those words scared him terribly. He joined the Sith? No, that wasn't true. He was going to be a Jedi! He'd promised his mother!

A crushing guilt overwhelmed him. He hadn't meant for it to end like this.

He shook his head, confused.

"You were my brother, Anakin." The voice broke, and he felt that same twinge of grief in his own heart. "I loved you."

A sob ripped its way out from his throat, echoing in the void as shame burned hot in his cheeks.

He cried, overwhelmed by these foreign emotions.

"I'm sorry, Master," he wailed pitifully, words not his own, "I'm sorry…"

"I have failed you, Anakin." The voice seemed to reply. "I have failed you."

His stomach twisted. No, that wasn't true. It was his fault.

A different, darker voice retorted in his stead. "I am not your failure, Obi-Wan." It sounded like a rebuke, but beneath the harsh words, there was something… else. Like it was supposed to be a gift.

A chill ran up Anakin's spine as the thread finally released him and he opened his eyes, back on the ship once more, Obi-Wan's name echoing in his mind.

The Force storm relented suddenly, leaving a vacuum in its wake. Qui-Gon breathed sharply in relief as both Anakin and Obi-Wan gasped back into consciousness.

"What happened?" He demanded, looking to his Padawan.

But neither of them answered. Instead, Obi-Wan turned to the child, an unreadable expression on his face.

Anakin trembled like a leaf, his face ashen.

The vacuum left by the Force storm was quickly replaced by the swirling nexus of Anakin's uncontrolled emotions.

Qui-Gon nearly staggered at the weight of the fear and guilt radiating off the boy.

In the space between thoughts, as he took in this wave of dark emotion and began to open his mouth to speak, Obi-Wan moved.

He pulled the child into his arms.

Qui-Gon's mouth remained open, speechless.

"Anakin," the Padawan gasped. Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan's tunic, harsh gasps bursting from his throat.

The Jedi Master stared. He wondered, briefly, if he'd somehow fallen into an alternate universe. What could Obi-Wan have seen to prompt such uncharacteristic… whatever was going on?

"It's not your fault," Obi-Wan's words only served to perplex Qui-Gon further, but sent Anakin into a tearful frenzy.

"No!" The boy pushed his way out of Obi-Wan's arms, face streaked with tears. "It is, Master! It's all my fault!"

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose. Anakin was calling Obi-Wan his Master?

Obi-Wan's face contorted, recoiling from the boy as if struck. He opened his mouth to reply, but Anakin cut him off.

"I ruined everything!" The boy insisted. His next words drove an icy wedge into Qui-Gon's heart. "You said I joined the Sith!"

"What?" Qui-Gon's head spun as the word sprouted from his lips. "Anakin, where did you hear that?"

Everything came to a standstill.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan trailed off, hands outstretched. Anakin turned from him, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.

"You never even wanted me," Anakin's face pinched, shoulders quaking.

A flare of pain through his bond with his Padawan stopped Qui-Gon in his tracks.

Obi-Wan stood, face pallid, and reached for the boy. Anakin allowed it, and Obi-Wan pulled him close, tucking the child's head firmly into his chest.

"Visions are not infallible," Obi-Wan said lamely, "and that's not true, Anakin, I…"

Anakin shook his head, despair and shame whirling around him like a sandstorm.

"Ani," Qui-Gon took advantage of his Padawan's silence, "tell me what you saw."

Instead, Obi-Wan replied.

"I believe," the Padawan said, his words heavy with exhaustion, "that we would all benefit from some time to process what we have seen, first."

Qui-Gon bit back his disappointment. His responsible Padawan had returned.

Obi-Wan was right, regardless. It was no use, with Anakin so overwhelmed, to prod and needle him any further. He released his frustration, his impatience into the Force, resolving to speak with his Padawan privately later.

"Quite so, Padawan," the Jedi knelt before Anakin as he spoke, laying a hand on the boy's back, who remained in Obi-Wan's protective grasp. "Anakin, if there's anything you need, please ask."

The boy nodded wordlessly. Qui-Gon turned to his Padawan, who seemed reluctant to release him.

Odd.

He reached through their bond, assessing. It was quite unlike Obi-Wan to be so… attached.

A buzz from Obi-Wan's commlink broke the awkward silence.

"Yes?"

Ric Olié's voice crackled through the device. "Is Master Jinn alright? We gotta get going."

Obi-Wan glanced hesitantly at his Master.

"I'm fine. Prep the hyperdrive, I'll be up shortly." Qui-Gon spoke into the commlink.

"Already done." Ric said, and the comm fell silent.