Chapter Text
“Obi-Wan!”
The Sith was defeated. Vanquished, but not dead. No- never dead.
“Obi-Wan!”
The sound of the ventilator receded into the distance as Ben walked away. His every footfall crunched loudly in his ears, and his breath was noisy too, and the hum of his lit saber, still in his hand, served to drown out the sounds of the machine, the labored breaths, the screams, the name which was shouted after him, and which followed Ben as surely as any shadow, licking at his heels.
He would walk away, he told himself firmly. He didn’t have to kill the Sith if he didn’t want to.
Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan.
Again and again it echoed, bouncing off the rocks.
There it came once more- “Obi-Wan!”
The Sith was shouting for him. Why? Did he want to die? If Ben came back, it would be to end it.
Ben turned.
The figure was far away now, a lone red dot against a featureless, gray rock landscape. Slumped over and clutching at his chest with one metal hand. He staggered, as Ben watched, but didn’t fall yet. Would he fall? Had the injuries Ben had given him been enough to fell the great and terrible dark lord?
They stared at each other from across that great distance, and Ben hesitated. His ears strained to hear that labored breathing, but from this far away, he couldn’t pick it up. Was the Sith still breathing? Was he injured? Would he die here, in the rock? Or- as had happened last time- would the Empire come for him once again?
Would the Sith die? Would he die? And what if he didn’t? What then? Would Ben leave him to go on raging and killing and plundering?
The urge to walk away was all-consuming. Ben wanted nothing more than to be rid of the specter that haunted his every waking step. This metal creature, both man and machine, which had been a product of his own making. He wanted to discard his responsibility, just leave it all behind.
The Jedi he had once been, the one that had been named Obi-Wan, would never allow such a thing. But here Ben was, hesitating.
“Are you a coward, Jedi?” He whispered to himself. “Are you so far gone, that you will leave him here again?”
“ Obi-Wan! ”
Anakin had once been his responsibility. But that Sith was no longer Anakin. By his own volition, by his own words- he’d been the one to kill Anakin. Ben shouldn’t owe this Sith anything. Not even death.
Ben walked back the way he’d come. The decision had made itself, in that moment. To be called by that name, over and over, to be reminded of who he’d once been, that man who’d once known right from wrong- Ben was no longer that man. But a sliver of him remained, and Vader had summoned it forth with those screams.
He walked back along the gray rock floor, his boots kicking up equally gray dust and sending it into the air. One hand holding the lit saber, keeping it at his side. Eyes hard, expression closed. He returned at a warrior’s march, purposeful and deliberate. Facing an enemy. Ready for anything.
Vader wasn’t looking good. One side of his helmet was gone, yes, but his chest had also been slashed. He was fumbling at the buttons with one hand, it looked like, while the other held his red saber. The buttons were flashing in random patterns, clearly malfunctioning. Now that Ben was closer, he could hear the breathing. Irregular, wheezing, shallow and wrong. Vader was clearly in trouble, but was he dying? Ben didn’t know.
The Sith actually tried to stand up when he saw Ben returning, but he stumbled back against the rock, only barely managing to hold on to his sword. His one yellow eye, uncovered, glared at him with enough hatred to set a man on fire.
“Come back to take your revenge?” Vader spat through a world of pain, his words glitching and odd, turning from his artificial deepened vocoder to his real voice and back. He tried to get up again, and stumbled again, wheezing and choking. “I will- I will end you. I will-”
Ben could not believe he had ever feared this man, had ever run from him. He couldn’t believe he’d ever let Vader set him on fire. Look at this pathetic creature, struggling here against the rock. Ben wasn’t even tired, not really. He felt like he could fight Vader all over again and still win.
He stood there a moment, just watching the Sith try to collect himself. Vader staggered, holding onto his sword for dear life. He tried to raise it, but couldn’t. His arm, also a machine, was jerking erratically.
“Give me your saber,” said Ben quietly.
“What?” said the Sith, and then laughed, and then descended into a fit of painful, wracking coughs. “Try and take it, you wretched man. I will…sever the arm…from your body.”
“You cannot even hold yourself up,” said Ben, as Vader’s legs trembled and he slid further down the rock, leaning heavily against it. “Give me your saber and surrender. Lay down on the ground.”
Vader laughed again, incredulous, and slid a bit further down. He was almost sitting now, huffing, utterly spent.
“Delusional, pathetic Jedi,” he spat through his coughing. “Try it. Try it. You think I will surrender? You think I hold an ounce of care left for you? I long to kill you. I cannot wait to kill you. I will sever your head from your body and present it as a gift to my master.”
Ben walked a little closer, growing braver with every second. Soon he was standing right in front of the Sith, staring down at him. As he watched, Vader slipped to one knee, with a machine-like groan of agony. He tried to rise again, of course he did, but he was down now, and he could not get up again.
Ben stepped right up to him, ready for an attack, with the sword or with the Force. He expected Vader to lash out wildly, swinging that red blade at his legs, or even throwing it, maybe…
…but it didn’t happen. Nothing happened. Vader only breathed harshly, still holding onto the red saber. It was down and to the side, not even held in a ready position. It was burning a hole in the rock where it touched the ground.
“Surrender,” said Ben again, towering. The blue saber’s light reflected in his eyes, along with the anger at this man, this Sith. At everything this boy had taken from him. At the fact that he had allowed himself, even for a moment, to be afraid of his own student. He should never have been afraid.
His face was still hard.
“Never,” said Vader. “Never. I will fight you to the bitter end, Obi-Wan.”
In a single, sudden motion, Ben reached down and grabbed onto the handle of the red lightsaber. Vader didn’t move, his only reaction a quick inhale. They stood there a moment, both holding the saber, and Ben looked the Sith in the eye.
With an equally sudden, ferocious jerk, Ben pulled the saber away, and Vader-
Vader let it go.