Too far gone 2.

1. february 2016 at 9:27 | Simona Gray |  Fanfictions
No...Ahsoka is sad, Mace Windu is FURYous, Padmé cries, Obi-Wan cries and hopefully you will cry as well. Enjoy the pain and desperation.
Yours truly
Simona Monster Gray



Mace found himself running through empty corridors with a limp body in his hands. Oh, Force, he thought, when did I sign up for this?
Then his comlink beeped to life. "I really hate my job," he muttered and carefully let Obi-Wan stand on the cold floor, keeping him upright against his chest with one hand, while he inspected his comlink.
"I am a little busy at the moment," he said when Ashoka´s sad face appeared. He could see the shock in her eyes when she saw unconscious Obi-Wan held against his chest.
"Is he all right?" she asked, her voice strangled. Mace sighed deeply. "Nothing life threatening, I think," he answered quietly. Ashoka seemed to calm down a bit at that. "An..." He could see tears glistening in her eyes. "Darth Vader managed to flee," she announced finally, bowing her head slightly. Mace slowly closed his eyes. Why did it have to happen?
"I have people coming after him," Ashoka added, hurt and pain obvious in her voice. Anakin was her master once. Anakin was a man who raised her, who taught her and promised that he will never let her be hurt. But Anakin was dead now and she was left with a monster.
Mace nodded and held Obi-Wan tighter as he felt him sliding down. "Good," he said. "Tell them not to kill him," he added after few seconds, "I would love to talk with the motherfucker face to face."

Chancellor Palpatine aka Darth Sidious was dead and his apprentice Vader on the run. The order was once again brought to the Republic - separatists fled when they learned about the Sith´s lord death and the war was over. The Jedi could return to their original duty of peacekeepers.
And yet there were people who couldn´t find peace and probably never will; the images of war still vivid in their minds, pictures of horror burned forever into their retinas. The feeling of blood on their hands and dreams full of screams and terrors keeping them awake at night.
Some people were just too far gone to find peace again.

"Their names are Luke and Leia." Padmé sat on the edge of a hospital bed, nervous, looking everywhere just not on its occupant. Healers told her that he is not really there, that he´s probably not gonna respond to her presence, but she had to try, feeling guilty for what´s been done to him. But somehow she wasn´t able to face him, she couldn´t bear the sight of the slumped figure curled up under the blankets, unseeing eyes looking at anything in particular, bruised hands resting on the blanket unhealthy thin. "You would love them." She lowered her head as she said those words, the realization sinking in. Would he really? Would he like children of a a man who reduced him to this? She wouldn´t blame him if he didn´t.
She turned to look at him, really look at him, for the first time since Mace Windu brought him in, broken, sick and bleeding.
Someone has cut his hair and shaven his beard and Padmé realized how much he resembled the young man she met all those years ago, when Qui-Gon Jinn was still alive and there was just Ani, sweet little boy who dreamed of becoming a pilot and flying to the stars.
How much has changed since then.
Obi-Wan was just a shell of his former self now, reduced to a whimpering body, sick and malnourished, too tired to even sit up and too broken to even recognise those around him.
She had a broken heart and felt an immense pain every time she looked at her son who shared the appearance of his father.
They could have it all, she thought. They could have been so happy.
She felt tears falling down from her eyes and she let them, for the first time since it all started, since she found out about the dead younglings and fall of her husband.
She broke into sobs, too tired to hold them any longer, too tired of pretending to be strong. Cries wracked her body as she sat there, trembling and shaking on Obi-Wan´s bed, crying for the boy she once knew, the man he became and the future they lost.
She felt a light touch on her shoulder and she turned to see Obi-Wan kneeling next to her, his face twisted into a sorrowful expression. "I am sorry," he croaked, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. She hugged him, because it felt right, because they both needed it and he hugged her back, with all the strength he had left and they sat there and cried, two broken beings who were too far gone and too lost to find peace.
 

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Comments

1 Andoriana Andoriana | Email | Web | 6. february 2016 at 9:40 | React

Už jenom filmová Pomsta Sithů mi způsobovala těžkou psychickou bolest (když jsem koukala na ten závěrečný fajt na Mustafaru, měla jsem oči nateklé jako dva pomeranče) a povídky, které jsou do toho prostředí zasazené na tom nejsou o nic líp. Sice jsem u tohohle nebrečela, ale trochu se to ve mně svíralo :-) Píšeš opravdu dobře, rozhodně tu nejsem naposledy!

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