When You Come Home

-41-

To say Anakin was excited to follow Obi-Wan was an overstatement. He wasn't excited, per se. He was curious, definitely. Excitement was too strong, but curiosity was ample. Wherever they were going, it had Obi-Wan excited. That alone was enough to get Anakin ... interested. Not excited, but interested. The way his brother kept glancing back at him as they wound through a few backstreets, his blue eyes bright, or the little grin on his face as they approached a series of war-torn buildings had Anakin ... intrigued. Very intrigued.

But he would not stay intrigued for long. As they stopped at the foot of a former office building, gutted and rid of any useable items, Anakin caught what Obi-Wan was getting at. A group of young teens, shouting and laughing loudly, scrambled over a make-shift obstacle course of rubble on their right. A small flock of pigeons pecked at a handful of crumbs nearby. The enclosure, surrounded by a group of buildings brushed but not levelled by grenades, was calm and homely almost, untouched by wind and unseen by the rest of the world. It was strange to be away from the war, to disappear for a while and forget everything else. It didn't seem right to abandon his men and all that he had fought so hard for, but one look at Obi-Wan's hopeful, timid face, told Anakin that he couldn't turn away now. The world could wait.

Anakin pulled the closest thing to a smile he had managed since Cody had died. "This looks like fun."

Obi-Wan's expression broke into delighted relief, and he beckoned his little brother towards a building tipped on a weird angle. "I thought we might start with this one. It's sturdy and simple; just what we need to warm up."

Anakin readjusted his gloves, the leather creaking as he stretched his fingers. "Race you to the top?" At Obi-Wan's disapproving look, Anakin smirked. "Always one for caution, big bro."

"There's a reason for that!" he called after Anakin uselessly as he dashed towards the foot of the enormous building.

Anakin threw a cheeky grin over his shoulder as he jammed his foot in a crevice and reached up to grab a metal beam. "It healed!"

"Badly!" Obi-Wan protested as he joined Anakin. He could see Obi-Wan seriously doubting the wisdom of his choice of recreational activity.

But Anakin was glad for it. He needed time to blow off steam, to force his confusing and conflicting emotions out through his hands and his feet. He needed to forget everything, just for a moment.

It was easy to forget everything when he was hanging onto the edge of a creaking, grumbling building, peering backwards at the lethal drop so far below. Nothing woke Anakin up like staring death in the eye.

And stare he did. The higher he climbed, with every reach and grab and with every step and slip, the harder the wind blew, the wobblier the building became, and the further ground fell. The clattering and rattling of loose sheets of metal, the crunch of broken glass, and the dusty, musty smell all increased the higher Anakin went. He could see Obi-Wan about a story below him, his face twisted in concentration and determination, and he knew for Obi-Wan this was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

But Anakin wasn't scared, or terrified, or worried. He was quite the opposite. He had always loved getting as high as he physically could, whether it be up a tree, scaling a rock face, or living at the top of an apartment complex. Too much happened on the ground: heartbreak, loss, confusion, war. But up, up in the air, perched inside a sheltered cleft, gazing down at the tiny world below him, he was free. He could see everything, do anything, be anyone. Height was liberation.

He smiled as Obi-Wan finally joined him, in a small, side-ways office nearly at the top. "Beat you."

Obi-Wan laughed, dusting his gloved hands together a little nervously. "Some things never change."