Star Wars - White sparrow (Sylvalum)

“I’d never leave you,” he says, words spilling out.“Anakin-““I know, but-“

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”I’ve been in Separatist custody for a month. Humour me?”

The ‘ _that’s not an excuse’_ , and ‘ _you shouldn’t use that as an excuse’-_ reprimands immediately crowd up inside his head, but he, as he usually does, tries his best to ignore them. Obi-Wan, holding an arm around Anakin’s back, courtesy of Anakin’s leg going _fuck this_ for a moment, raises one imperious eyebrow at him.

…But he doesn’t snatch back the hand that Anakin is currently holding.

“How does your leg feel?” He asks neutrally, wholly ignoring their previous conversation.

“Fine,” Anakin answers, because he’s had so many painkillers that he can’t feel his foot apart from a few occasional pangs. His head feels a bit woozy, but mostly he just feels Totally Fine.

“Perhaps you should refrain from walking around,” Obi-Wan suggests. “Putting so much pressure on your leg can’t be good.”

“Maybe not,” Anakin says offhandedly, still leaning on Obi-Wan. He should try putting weight on his own leg again, see if he can limp away somewhere – but still he doesn’t move. The moment feels too rare to pass up on; they never just casually touch each other. Padmé is the only one who ever just… holds his hand. Leans into him. _Affection_. Though then again, his relationship with Padmé is completely different from his and Obi-Wan’s…

It is. It has to be. It’s staying that way.

“Do you need help in getting to your room?” Obi-Wan asks, sounding half-amused.

Anakin has a feeling like maybe he’s supposed to be more affronted than he actually is at the suggestion. “That would be nice,” he says instead. There, an acceptable reply.

Obi-Wan gives him a peculiar look. “Are you really feeling alright?” he words carefully.

“’Course I am. These painkillers are really great.”

“Is that so? …How many did you have?”

“A few.” The complete and utter lack of suspicion on Obi-Wan’s face is kind of telling, and Anakin says defensively, “I didn’t take any more than they allowed me to.”

“I hope not.” Obi-Wan sighs. “We better move along.” He takes his hand back from Anakin’s grasp. And then he starts walking, supporting Anakin with one arm. Anakin just limps along, at first annoyed at the lack of response from his leg, and then just annoyed at the limping altogether. He tries putting more weight on his injured foot, but it doesn’t hold and he stumbles again. Obi-Wan doesn’t let him fall, but it’s – it’s frustrating.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says.

“What?”

“I should’ve pressed the Council to let me rescue you earlier.”

Anakin looks at him sharply – and then he just waits, wanting to hear the rest.

Obi-Wan makes a very slight grimace. “I should’ve rescued you earlier. The council’s decision – well. We were needed elsewhere…”

Anakin feels compelled to say something. “It wasn’t your fault. If the Council’s decided on something-“ he feels his expression darken, and pushes it back. “I should’ve paid more attention – it’s my fault I was captured in the first place.” If only he had been quicker, if he had anticipated that shot-

“There wasn’t any way for you to expect that attack, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. Anakin becomes aware that they’ve stopped again, but the fact slips away before he can consider it.

“I should’ve sensed-“

“You were preoccupied.”

Anakin – presses his lip to a thin line, and doesn’t answer. If only he had – _if_. If he was more powerful, if he knew more, if he only knew how to… He wants more power, more finesse, more- Just, more. Time, maybe. For the war to finally end. He wants to sit on a terrace, on Naboo in the gentle breeze, hold Padmé and press kisses to her hairline and just- He wants to add Obi-Wan into that picture. It must be at least a little the fault of the pain medication that he next asks, “When the war’s over, could we – go on a vacation?”