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There was nothing they could do.
It had been set in motion, and they— the both of them, so strong together and yet in this moment so powerless— could do absolutely nothing to stop it.
That had been the Separatists’ plan all along, of course. Lure the two most essential Jedi in the war to a planet ransacked by their droids, make them trap themselves to save the poor locals, and set the bomb. Let them burn. Let them die. Obi-Wan was attempting to breathe calmly through his nose, striving for some sort of pseudo-meditation. Failing. Breathing through his mouth. If the explosives didn’t get them... He sighed heavily and let his head rest against the cold duracrete of the rubble they were trapped in. Head lolling to the side, he looked at Anakin.
Anakin, who was not ready to give up so easily. Pacing wildly like a trapped Nexu, Obi-Wan could almost see a tail lashing angrily behind him. His lightsaber was out, lit, and he periodically slashed at the rubble around him, gripping his hair and growling with frustration as he only found more duracrete— and if not duracrete, then ray shields or cortosis. A perfect Jedi trap. With every other strike or so, the whole structure would rumble ominously. After a few rounds of this, Obi-Wan heaved himself up and approached Anakin, hand out to intercept his lightsaber, just as he did so long ago when Anakin was still learning. Anakin turned around harshly, gaze softening after a moment. He sighed and deactivated his saber.
“There’s nothing for it, Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried to say, but was cut off by Anakin suddenly becoming hostile again.
“Don’t say that! Don’t you dare give up, Master. There has to be a way out. We’re Jedi! We don’t give up!”
Sighing again, Obi-Wan ran his hand up Anakin’s arm until it was resting on his shoulder. He gave a comforting squeeze. “There’s a difference between giving up and knowing when to let go, dearest.” His breath caught and he gave a little cough, blood splattering onto his fist. Anakin’s eyes widened. Obi-Wan couldn’t keep his gaze. Looking away, he took a step back, leaning against the shell of their enclosure, the pit of Hell reserved just for them. “I have little chance of making it out of here, Anakin, whether you can find a way out in time or not. My condition is… worsening.” He could feel the air shift with Anakin’s outrage, and it suddenly felt difficult to stand. He stood anyway.
Anakin stalked closer to him, though there wasn’t much space for Obi-Wan to hide as it was. There was certainly nowhere to escape to. “That doesn’t matter! I can still get us out of here!”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said meekly.
“Don’t you dare ‘Anakin’ me!” Anakin snarled. “So, you get injured, and decide to just lay down and die?”
Obi-Wan sighed, a ping of pain going off in his side with the action. “No, I get injured in an impossible to escape situation, and decide to accept that this is what the Force demands of me. Believe me, Anakin, could I get you out of here, I would. But there is simply nothing…” He coughed again, legs feeling weaker and weaker. Anakin scoffed, Force signature tight and coiled, and began to pace.
“We can’t give up. I can’t give up. I’m not going to let you die.”
“...perhaps if you worried less about finding a way out for both of us, you may be able to—”
“Did you not hear what I just said?!” Anakin yelled, spinning around. He visibly stalled for a moment at Obi-Wan’s rapidly weakening disposition, face pallid, but charged forward nonetheless. “I’m not leaving you! I don’t care what you say! I’d rather die than leave you behind, don’t you know that?” His voice kept getting louder and louder, ringing in Obi-Wan’s ears, and oh he was beginning to feel a little sick. His legs were shaking now, and his mouth tasted so heavy with copper. “O…-Wa..?” Anakin’s voice faded in and out for a moment as Obi-Wan could finally no longer stand, sliding to the ground with a dull thud. “Ob…an!” His ears were full of cotton, heartbeat thumping in his ears. Why was it so dark suddenly?
“Dearest one..” he croaked out, reaching out a shaky hand. He wanted Anakin, here, with him. He felt so far away. He didn’t want Anakin to be far away, not when he was about to die. He needed him.
Thankfully, Anakin didn’t make him wait. He knelt down and wrapped Obi-Wan in his arms, pressing him to his chest, and Obi-Wan finally felt as if he could relax. Now that Anakin was here, he could truly accept what was about to happen. His breathing calmed, his senses returning, the stabbing pain in his gut seeming less important. There wasn’t much he could do to comfort Anakin in return, but he knew from experience that his lover often gained all the comfort he needed simply by having all of Obi-Wan in his arms, warm and safe. He looked up when he felt wetness on his hair, unsurprised but deeply saddened by the sight of heavy tear tracks running down his face. He couldn’t move much between his weakness and the tight compress of his beloved’s arms, but he managed enough to gently wipe away some of Anakin’s tears. He turned his head into Obi-Wan’s hand, kissing his palm with such deep reverence it made his heart ache worse than his wound. He swallowed thickly, mouth dry of saliva but slick with blood. His teeth must have been stained red by now. “My darling…”
“It’s just not fair,” Anakin choked out through his tears. He was trying desperately to hide the shaking of his shoulders. Failing. “I only just got to have you, and now we’re…” He couldn’t finish. Obi-Wan hummed in response, for once in his life unsure of what to say. It was beginning to get hard to think, and in the distance he could hear the sirens getting louder as each section of the facility was systematically demolished. Neither of them had much time left. Instead of talking, he reached out through the bond, connecting their minds for the last time. Images, feelings, reflecting on their lives together. Anakin was right: it was unfair. They loved each other so much, and yet had only known for a few months… but Obi-Wan was happy they were together. Saddened that Anakin wouldn’t make it, but in his last moments he figured he could allow himself a little selfishness— Anakin encouraged this, in their shared mindscape.
I wouldn’t be able to live without you, anyway, he thought, or perhaps did say aloud. It was too late for Obi-Wan to be able to tell.
I suppose it is good, then, that you will never have to. His limbs kept getting heavier, and heavier, and heavier still. It was getting harder to breathe. Pain lanced through his lungs and down his ribs like an electrical current, making the depths of his guts tingle. He didn’t want to stop looking at Anakin, his beloved, his dearest one, but his face and the darkness behind his eyes were starting to blend together… I love you, Anakin. I hope you know that. I hope you’ve always known that. Sadness pitched his thoughts, umberous and sickly, without warning. I know I wasn’t the best for you. I wasn’t a very good Master, and never mind as your —
“Don’t say that, Obi-Wan,” Anakin interrupted, certainly speaking aloud this time. Obi-Wan could feel the rumble of his chest against his ear, so warm and soothing. Still alive, for now. “You’re… I could not have asked for a better Master.”
A thought rose, unbidden in the fogged grove of Obi-Wan’s dying mind: “I wish Master Qui-Gon were here! I wish it had been you instead of—!”
Anakin’s grip wound tighter. His voice was quiet. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I never meant that. I shouldn’t have said that, I never… Master Qui-Gon wouldn’t have taken care of me the way you did. Protected me, taught me, loved me…” He gasped wetly, pressing his face into Obi-Wan’s hair and giving a deep inhale. “Oh, Gods, Obi-Wan, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to go.” I don’t want to be alone.
Breath wheezing, Obi-Wan’s muscles trembled as he pushed against Anakin’s embrace, leaning up as far as his weakening body would allow. He had wanted to kiss Anakin properly, just once more before the end, but he was unable. A kiss to his cheek would have to do. Straining with effort, Obi-Wan pressed shaky lips to the curve of Anakin’s strong, handsome jaw— his blood mixed with Anakin’s tears and stained his face pink. His youthful face, not ready for death, and yet it had come for him anyways. Come for them both. I’m so sorry, dear one, he sent across the bond. I’m so sorry it’s come to this. What I wanted for you… He did his best to push an image across, his Force signature even beginning to fail, now, and he could only send fragments.
The two of them, in the Temple, older. Happy. No more war, no more constant death. Ahsoka, a Jedi once again, knighted, all the clones given their due citizenship, Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker. Living as Jedi were meant to. Still The Team ( always, Obi-Wan whispered in Anakin’s mind), but no more violence. Only lounging together in The Room of a Thousand Fountains, sometimes meditating and sometimes not, Obi-Wan negotiating and Anakin charming, as always. A few more wrinkles by Obi-Wan’s eyes and a few for Anakin as well. Perhaps another padawan, perhaps not. Freedom. Peace.
If only.
The sirens kept getting louder, and the tremors bassier, little bits of duracrete debris falling around them more and more. It dusted Anakin’s hair grey and ashy, though Obi-Wan was safe from it in Anakin’s arms. Oh, how safe he felt in the arms of his lover, strong and holding him tight– even now, in the end, now that Anakin was holding him so close, so dearly… He couldn’t find it in himself to be afraid. It was even becoming harder to muster up any sadness. There was truly nowhere else he would rather be, for eternity, than in the arms of his beloved, his dearheart.
I’m sorry that I cannot hold you, he thought. He could distantly feel Anakin pressing his face into his hair once more, desperately trying to etch forever the smell of his shampoo, the smell of his sweat. I’m sorry I could not have kissed you. Anakin pressed his own kiss in response.
“Don’t apologise for letting me hold you like this, Obi-Wan,” he said, voice tight and sounding so close, suddenly. “If we have to die, I want it to be together. I want you to be in my arms. I want this to be the last thing I ever experience.” He pulled him in even tighter somehow, Obi-Wan curled delicately onto Anakin’s lap, limbs tucked and growing cold. “We’re together. I have you. That’s… That’s truly all I’ve ever wanted.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes suddenly felt wet. It was time. His breath was practically non-existent now, and it was so warm in Anakin’s arms… I love you, Anakin. I know we will find each other, in the After.
Anakin’s arms shook as he began to gently rock Obi-Wan. “I love you too, Obi-Wan. So much. I’ll look for you.” There was no response. There was nothing. Tears flooded Obi-Wan’s hair as Anakin cried, hot and wet as they overflowed, the deep agony rending his chest, right against where Obi-Wan lay. His beloved, his everything–
And then Anakin Skywalker knew no more.
Later, after the planet had been won (through nothing short of one of the most brutal campaigns the war had ever seen), there had been a sweep ordered to try and find Generals Kenobi and Skywalker. They had been through worse than a simple separation from troops, they all thought. There was no way they had… It was simply unthinkable.
And yet.
When they found the collapsed facility, the air dropped several degrees. It had once been a tall standing building, likely hundreds of thousands of pounds of durasteel and duracrete, and now it lay as a near-unrecognisable heap. Like the corpse of a large animal that simply lost the will to live, it rested in shambles, all jagged edges and collapsed slopes– morale lowered. But this was The Team! they thought, surely they managed to find a way to survive. A way out. But there was no way out– there was no carefully carved tunnel or smashed exit through the layers of destruction. As they went deeper and deeper into the rubble, restless hope turned to fear. The scanners had picked up a cavity in the rubble– perhaps! The Jedi were tough, and especially these Jedi; perhaps they had managed to survive. Surely, they would find them, bruised and dust-covered and certainly in need of medical attention, but alive. There was no other way for them to be.
That was not how they found them.
Instead, what they found after digging up the cavity of rubble, were what looked much less like two Jedi, and much more like two simple men, hopeless and in love. General Kenobi curled up in General Skywalker’s arms, General Skywalker impaled through the chest by a durasteel rebar that had come down during the final explosion. It felt… wrong, somehow, to dig into their graves and separate the two, but they had been ordered to bring back whatever it was they found. An autopsy revealed that General Kenobi had actually died of an internal injury, unrelated to the blast. Had General Skywalker not curled around Kenobi, Skywalker might have survived. But instead he had wrapped himself around his lover– and they knew now, they most certainly were lovers– and let himself die with him, let Kenobi die in his arms. More than one trooper shed a tear after they had returned to their quarters.
Kenobi and Skywalker, The Team. Even in the end.