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

Lost You, Found You

• Summary: A ripple in the Force places a nineteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker right in front of Ben Kenobi.

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Anakin Skywalker was gone.

This was a fact that Ben had come to terms with years ago, back on that rock covered planet where he’d left the Dark Lord of the Sith behind.

Anakin Skywalker was gone. Darth Vader was all that remained.

Ben had resigned himself to the knowledge that he would never see, nor feel, nor sense his former padawan ever again.

And then the strangest things had happened.

The Force, typically, was an ocean; waves rolled steadily across the vast expanse. This feeling, then, was a tsunami- a great wave of pure presence that slammed down into the calm of the sea and sent crashing ripples out for miles.

Obi-Wan had only ever felt one presence like that before. But it was impossible– again, Anakin Skywalker was gone.

As soon as it had hit, Ben had been ripped from his meditation, all senses on high alert. It had come from- well, it seemed as if it had come from all around, as if the Force itself had been intertwined with traces of the new presence. Ben’s eyes scanned his surroundings. The force signature was close, getting closer- Ben took a step back, hand instinctively going to his belt- but of course, no lightsaber hung there- one hadn’t for a while, now-

“Master!” A voice rang out, clear as day. “Thank kriff you’re here, where are-” a young figure rounded a corner, and both Ben and the figure halted in their tracks.

“Master?”

A boy- Force, he really was a boy- stared at Ben, hand instinctively going to his side, where a lightsaber was just barely concealed. Ben stared right back.

The boy had short shorn hair, and a long, dangling braid at his shoulder. His eyes were narrowed, lips curled into a frown, almost a scowl. The hand over the lightsaber flexed slightly as the other tightened into a fist.

The face the boy held was one that Ben knew all too well- one that still haunted his dreams to this day.

This was Anakin.

There was no doubt about it. This Anakin, though, couldn’t have been more than nineteen. He was smaller, younger looking, and, Ben realized quickly, both of his hands were flesh and blood.

“Anakin,” he breathed, and before he could register it, Anakin’s hand flashed to his saber, sparking up the brilliant blue blade and pointing it towards Ben’s direction.

“Who are you?” Anakin spat out, the Force rippling with anger around him, “and what have you done with Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

Ben slowly, carefully raised his hands. “Easy,” he said, making sure to keep his voice steady. “Anakin-”

“Why do you feel like him?” Anakin snarled, stepping forward with an accusatory jab of his blade. “Your presence in the Force- it’s weak, but I can feel it. What did you do to my Master?”

Ben considered his next words carefully, meeting Anakin’s eyes. “Your Master is gone.”

Apparently, it had not been the right thing to say. Anakin yelled out, swinging his saber with a sudden fury toward Ben. He barely had time to move, stepping away and to the side, before the blade slashed downwards with a familiar hum, slicing the air where his arm would have been.

“Anakin,” Ben repeated, holding his arms out as Anakin turned to face him again. “Please. Let me explain.”

“Make it fast,” Anakin growled, saber humming. “I don’t have much patience for those who pull me out of negotiations to wherever here is and tell me they’ve killed my Master-”