Chapter 16 - Prisoner

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They take him down to the prison level where Custos is – Anakin only knows that because it's the level where dangerous Force sensitives are kept – and there's nowhere else where they would keep him anyways. A couple Temple guards escort them, not that it's even necessary, because Anakin would be hard pressed to defeat both Obi-Wan and Windu, especially without a lightsaber.

The Dark Side is eating at him, and Anakin doesn't know how to let go of it; he doesn't know if he even wants to, and that was definitely not part of the plan. After he's imprisoned, he was supposed to let go of it so it wouldn't affect him any longer than it absolutely had to... but none of them really knew much about the Dark Side, about how it affects those who have Fallen. Custos might be able to help. He's probably the only one who can.

As Obi-Wan and Windu escort Anakin down the hall, he catches sight of Custos in a cell up ahead, sensing his Force signature – however muted and warped it may be – more than seeing him. He stills, heart nearly skipping a beat as he jerks against the Jedi's grip, forcing them to stop moving forwards, deeper into the prison.

"Custos," Anakin breathes, eyes desperately searching the other man's face, checking to make sure that he's really alright down here, all alone.

Custos' eyes widen when he sees Anakin standing there in binders, shock visibly flitting over his face. He instantly moves to the ray shield. "Oh, Anakin, what have you done?" He sounds dismayed, worried, and so much like Obi-Wan that it's like a knife to the heart. Anakin has missed this, missed him.

"I didn't..." His voice trails off, and he shakes his head, ignoring the way Obi-Wan and Windu keep trying to prod him forwards. "I had to do it," he whispers. "Better me than Ani."

Something dark flickers across Custos' face. "How is he?"

Anakin doesn't want to tell him, but he deserves to know. "He's a wreck," he answers, maybe a tad too bluntly. "He's falling apart, and I couldn't help him."

"It's okay," Custos promises. "It's not your fault, Anakin. We'll be okay."

And maybe he shouldn't be making such promises when he doesn't know that, but he's probably able to sense how much Anakin needs the comfort. Perhaps the Jedi are only allowing this interaction because they're using the opportunity to judge them, to study them, to draw their own conclusions. Anakin hates feeling like he's a strange specimen to be examined, but he's so relieved to be able to talk to Custos that he hardly even cares.

"I'm sorry," he says, though he doesn't know why he says it. Maybe it's for failing to protect Ani, even from himself. Maybe it's for Falling – the guilt feels like it could devour him whole.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Custos replies. He's so close to the ray shield that any closer and he'll be touching it. "You need to let it go, Anakin." His voice is grave, serious, anxious. "This is – this should never have happened. Let go."

"How?" Anakin demands desperately. "I can't..." He instinctively tries to take a step closer to the Sith, to the comfort and aid which he's promising, but Windu stops him, pushing him away with a little more force than is necessary. If looks could kill, Anakin is quite certain Custos would have vaporized Windu on the spot.

"Don't. Touch. My. Son," he snarls, eyes bleeding yellow.

Anakin senses more than sees Obi-Wan and Windu exchanging glances. He says nothing to contradict Custos' claim, and why should he? This is – it's the truth, in a way. He is an Anakin. Custos only cares about that. He doesn't care that Anakin sees Obi-Wan as a father; he knows how much Anakin is struggling, and he's willing to step forwards and help him however he needs it. And he appreciates that, more than words could ever say.

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