Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

Until We Are Left Skinless

• Summary: Vader has dropped to his knees and he is looking up at him, head cocked to the side so that his neck is revealed. With a tense jaw and hands balled into fists, Vader stares at him, eyes burning, redder than Obi-Wan has ever seen them, so bright and dark at the same time, demanding and pleading with him, trying to pull him in.

"Punish me," Vader presses out between his clenched teeth and lowers his head, his long blond hair rains down his face.

Or, what if Vaderkin kidnaps Obi-Wan and falls down into a self destructive spiral with him.

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The collar around his neck is biting into his skin, its durasteel chafing and cold, and it has dulled all the colours, the brightness, the warmth of the Force into an unfeeling, blunt grey. Another day has gone by, but it feels far longer, the hours seem to have been stretched so thin that time has stopped passing.

It's a dull, dull thing to be caught and kept inside a small cell. Obi-Wan has suffered through this on more than one occasion, he should be adapted to an imprisoned life by now, but the truth is that he simply hasn't, he thinks that no one truly ever does. You learn to survive, to keep yourself as sane as possible and bait your time, waiting for release, for room to escape.

He wishes he could at least say that he is bored, but he isn't, not at all. No matter how long he is made to wait, just the thought of seeing his captor again fills him with too much anticipation, be it apprehension or excitement, to claim otherwise. The prospect of seeing Vader again keeps him on his toes, just the signature of the enormous Force residing in his body casts a shadow to Obi-Wan crippled senses, a fragment of what he used to feel. But now that he is cut off, he is left to satisfy that itch with the crumbs Vader throws his way.

It's been a while since Obi-Wan has had the chance to see him and he tries not to think about the reasons why, he tries to, only to fail, his own guilt won't let his mind rest. How many more innocent beings are falling victim to his former Padawan's violence, his murderous rampage, as Obi-Wan's sits here, useless and dead to the outside world? How many more Jedi are haunted, tortured and killed by Vader's hand as he is left unscathed and alive? One is more than enough to make the anger in him flare up, but his situation makes even that feel impotent and weak.

Obi-Wan rattles against the rope wound around his wrist, testing its strength again, knowing that nothing has changed for it to weaken, but he has to do something, remind himself where he is, how he got here or else he will lose himself to the games Vader has been playing with him for weeks.

As he closes his eyes to reach deep within himself and reach the center that allows him to remain calm and rational, he hears the hiss of the door to his cell sliding open and opens his eyes again. He straightens his back and tilts his head up, staring at the nervous trooper with curious eyes. This is new. No one but Vader has ever come to him.

"I am here to relocate you to your new prison cell," the trooper stammers, whatever threat Vader has made against him, its sharp blade must still hover against his neck. He stands still at the threshold, head turned to him as he waits for him to come along, weapon drawn against him.

"First, you'll have to free me," Obi-Wan says, voice a low whisper as he smiles at the tropper, he leans forward and shakes his bound arm. The trooper quickly rushes inside, but not before putting his blaster out of reach, and unbinds him from his bondage, hands unsteady as he types the code. "Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your keeper, it's just not my style."

The trooper ignores him and fastens his hands together, keeping his arms locked behind his back as he drags Obi-Wan through the corridors, perhaps a bit indignant at his remark. His grip is rather painful after all. A new cell, huh, he thinks and tries to pay attention to the way ahead, only to discard that attempt in the next moment. He is too tired and hungry and the time spent alone has left quite a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.