[He's never quite known how to explain it to the others. Anakin feels more grounded in the Force when he's flying, or fighting- even if its only training. Everything is always happening; everything is always happening all at the same time, in vivid detail and vibrant intensity. The visions are like this too, as if he's holding a small piece of the future in his mind but its moving away from him all the time. Its trying to reach him, to tell him something, but the present and the here and now, the living Force eventually just drowns it out.
Anakin comes awake on top of his mattress. The sheets are tangled around his legs like shackles and his pulse is throbbing in his ears, blotting out every sound that isn't Padmé's voice, an echo of an echo. And then there's darkness, a room full of it. Darkness and Obi-Wan. It's his face that Anakin's aware of first, looking at him the way he did when he was small. When his nightmares had been nightmares only. Wide-eyed and stiff with adrenaline, his body is prepared to fight- to run, to do whatever was necessary to stop this from happening; and there is Obi-Wan's hand. Bridging the gap between dream and waking.
His eyes cut back and forth across his friend's face and slowly, carefully, Anakin remembers how to breathe. The rise and fall beneath Obi-Wan's palm is shallow, but in the few seconds that pass it's a question he pushes out first. A quiet croak.] Did I wake anyone? [His fingers begin to unclench, releasing the sheet and with it, some of his own tension.]
no subject
Anakin comes awake on top of his mattress. The sheets are tangled around his legs like shackles and his pulse is throbbing in his ears, blotting out every sound that isn't Padmé's voice, an echo of an echo. And then there's darkness, a room full of it. Darkness and Obi-Wan. It's his face that Anakin's aware of first, looking at him the way he did when he was small. When his nightmares had been nightmares only. Wide-eyed and stiff with adrenaline, his body is prepared to fight- to run, to do whatever was necessary to stop this from happening; and there is Obi-Wan's hand. Bridging the gap between dream and waking.
His eyes cut back and forth across his friend's face and slowly, carefully, Anakin remembers how to breathe. The rise and fall beneath Obi-Wan's palm is shallow, but in the few seconds that pass it's a question he pushes out first. A quiet croak.] Did I wake anyone? [His fingers begin to unclench, releasing the sheet and with it, some of his own tension.]