Comfortember Day 8
Relived Trauma
Spoiler: This is an excerpt from I Don’t Like Sand, a one-shot I have yet to release. ;)
His surroundings filter in gradually, and Anakin becomes distantly aware of the sound of voices, ones which he knows, so he doesn’t panic – at least not any more than he already is. His breathing is far too fast and shallow, and he can’t shake the feeling of being pinned to the sand, totally helpless. He’s curled in on himself in a protective position, back pressed against the tree trunk.
“Anakin?” It’s Obi-Wan, his mind supplies helpfully.
He’s shaking uncontrollably, feeling this close to breaking and shattering into a million pieces. He should be stronger than this. There was absolutely no reason for him to lose control like that. But he did, and it’s inexcusable. Does it matter though? It happened. He can feel the heat of the sand permeating his body through his thin tunic, sand seeping in through the holes. He’s trapped, unable to run, unable to escape. All he can do is scream.
“What happened?” Despite the audible worry, Padme’s voice is still soothing.
He forces his eyes to open, blinking to focus them. Ahsoka is hovering in the background, a stricken look on her face which is in stark contrast to the prominent worry in Padme’s expression. She’s kneeling near him, close but not touching. Obi-Wan is on his other side, and he seems torn between keeping his distance and touching him. Anakin consciously tries to calm himself down, to slow his breathing so he’s not hyperventilating.
It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s on Naboo, not Tatooine. There aren’t any dangers lurking here. He’s fine. Anakin inhales a bit more slowly, counting mentally in an effort to force himself to relax. It isn’t easy, but this isn’t the first time he’s had to cope with something like this. Often, he’s alone, so he doesn’t need to deal with the embarrassment of making a scene. The realization that Ahsoka saw is nearly enough to send him over the edge again, but he refuses to start panicking all over again.
He probably would have though, especially since his thoughts start spiraling again, when Obi-Wan speaks. “Just breathe,” he instructs gently, and Anakin can definitely hear the concern in his voice. “Focus on me.”
Obi-Wan demonstrates, and Anakin tries to match his breathing to that of his former master’s. At times like this, when Obi-Wan is being so nice and kind and gentle, Anakin wishes so badly that he was capable of actually talking to him, the way most normal humans do. He wishes that he didn’t always have to feel so alone and trapped in his own memories of his past, but he – he doesn’t know how to talk to Obi-Wan about things like that in a way which he’ll actually understand. And then, the moments pass so fast, that Anakin is often left feeling… almost glad that he didn’t open up, because losing that closeness would have been even harder.
He’s not a good Jedi. He tries, though. He tries so hard, but it often seems to be for naught. He’s simply not good enough. He hates being so alone, hates that he can still want things that he shouldn’t. Why does it have to be so hard?
As his awareness and alertness return, Anakin becomes aware of the fact that he’s trembling, both from his flashback – he shouldn’t experience things like that; it’s a weakness he doesn’t have time for – and from shock, he thinks. He feels cold, despite the relatively warm temperatures around them. Obi-Wan’s presence is a calm beacon amidst the tumult in his mind, and it helps ground him in the moment.
