Chapter Text
There was a brief instant of every morning where Anakin forgot that he was alone. At least, he forgot that he was alone until he opened his eyes and found himself lying in the empty bed that he’d once shared with his wife. Though, he didn’t often wake up in bed these days. Sometimes, if he were lucky, he found himself on the couch. Most of the time he woke up on the floor in various areas of the house. At least, he did when he slept at all. He could go days, sometimes a week even, without sleeping more than fifteen or thirty minutes at a time. On these days, he’d walk aimlessly through the house, a bottle of whiskey or tequila or rum in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
For three days, Anakin had been awake with the sound of the rain that had yet to stop falling. Monsoon season, maybe. Or maybe the weather was simply matching his abysmal mood. Whatever it was, he wished it would stop so that he could sleep. Every time he got tired enough to sleep, the thunder or a flash of lightning or even just the sound of the rain pounding against the house would pull him awake minutes after his eyes closed. It felt like he should be used to this by now, like insomnia should have been just another part of his daily life. After all, he hardly ever slept anymore. And, even when he did, it wasn’t a restful sleep by any means. Hell, he couldn’t remember when the last time he’d actually rested had been. The nightmares that plagued him made rest impossible.
Thunder rocked the skies and Anakin lurched to his feet, bringing the half-empty bottle of tequila with him. He staggered to the kitchen in search of the whiskey he’d bought last weekend, his vision blurring even more with every step he took. The bottle of whiskey was in the cabinet above the sink, half-empty already and he glared at it like it had emptied itself before pulling it out. He shoved the tequila back in the cabinet between another bottle of whiskey and a bottle of rum. Another clap of thunder turned his scowl toward the window where he could see flashes of lightning illuminating the darkened sky.
He barely made it to the couch before collapsing again. There was an old movie playing on the TV in front of him but he hadn’t been paying attention to it and still didn’t know what was happening. The movie played on as he fumbled for the pack of cigarettes sitting on the cushion beside him. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Anakin’s eyes remained fixed on that cushion. Something dark welled in his chest at the memory that struck him and he took a deep pull from the bottle of whiskey in his right hand. That had been Padme’s spot before… before she’d left him. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the weight of her leaning against his chest as they watched a movie together.
With an irritated huff, Anakin stood and walked away from the couch. Dwelling on the past never helped anything. He walked through the house, aimless as usual, stopping occasionally to lean against the wall. The silence was starting to grate on his ears, reminding him that he was alone in a house that had been meant to house the family he should have had. ‘It’s more like a prison now.’ He scoffed at the thought as it passed through his mind, stopping to lean against the wall near the Master bedroom. It was true, though admitting as much left a rancid taste in his mouth.
He stepped into the bathroom to toss the cigarette in the toilet and paused in front of the mirror. The man facing him wasn’t anyone he recognized. He looked like something out of a horror movie with his pallid face and purple eye bags, but this was his face now. Anakin sneered at his image. This was the face of a man who’d lost everything and everyone, who had nothing left to care about. He wondered if anyone would recognize him if they saw him now, if Padme would - but no, she didn’t care anymore. She’d walked out, left her ring on the coffee table on top of the divorce papers.
Anakin’s reflection shattered as his fist slammed into the mirror, breaking it into pieces too small to be put back together again. ‘Kind of like me, I guess.’ The thought made him snort, a derisive sound that was gone as quickly as it had come. Not that it was a lie; he had broken into too many pieces to ever be put together again. He picked up the bottle of whiskey as he left the bathroom, heading back downstairs where he curled in front of the TV again.
There was a different movie playing now. This time, a man and his wife stood in their kitchen. They looked happy, in love. Anakin changed the channel a few times, paying no real attention to anything he saw. There were a few movies playing and he thought he recognized some of them. He stopped on one of them, a movie whose title he couldn’t remember. It wasn’t anything he’d ever watched with Padme, though, and that was what mattered. He was tired of all the reminders. She was moving on with her life while he was stuck in the same place and he was-he was just tired. That’s all. He was just tired. Physically, mentally… it didn’t matter. He was just so fucking tired.
The vibration of his phone brought his attention away from the dark thoughts and he searched blindly for a few moments before finding it on the coffee table. His vision blurred and he blinked several times, unable to read the words on the screen. Finally, after a minute or two of staring at the phone screen, he could see well enough to read the name. It was a text message, thankfully, rather than a phone call.
From: Ben
You doing okay? I tried to call & it went to voicemail. Just wanted to check in.
Anakin lit a cigarette as he read the words. Ben had been his best friend for most of their lives. There were five missed calls from Ben, though Anakin had no intention of calling him back. Why should he? It wasn’t like Ben cared. If he had then he wouldn’t have brushed Anakin aside after the divorce.
From: Anakin
Dn’t act like u give a shit. Stp calling.
There was a part of him that felt guilty for giving Ben the cold shoulder, but most of him didn’t care. Ben hadn’t been there when Anakin had needed him the most and he wanted nothing to do with his friendship now. Even if he had no friends to speak of anymore. His phone buzzed again and he almost rejected the text, deleted it without reading.
From: Ben
Of course I care, Anakin. You’re my best friend. Talk to me. What’s wrong?
Anakin scoffed. What’s wrong? He took a long drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out. Exhaling the smoke, he stared down at the phone. All he wanted was for Ben to fuck off, was that too much to ask for?
From: Anakin
I lost evrythng n u ddnt evn care. Now leave me alone.
He switched the phone off then, not wanting to get any more of Ben’s messages. It was just like Ben to act like there was nothing wrong after he’d pretty much blown Anakin off after the divorce. Oh, sure. He’d said that he was there whenever Anakin needed him. But then, when those times actually came up, he always had some excuse. It didn’t matter that the man he’d called his brother had lost literally everything that had ever mattered to him, no of course not. All that mattered to Ben was himself.
Anakin shook his head and lay down. He wondered why Ben was still pretending. It sure as fuck wasn’t out of loyalty. Maybe he just wanted to convince himself that he was a good guy or maybe he wanted to convince himself that Anakin was a lost cause. Whatever the reason, Anakin was tired of getting these messages. Whatever friendship they’d had was over and now all Anakin wanted was to get on with his miserable existence. Even if he could never move forward, he at least wanted the reminders of his old life to go away.
He was still thinking about the reminders of that old life when he started to fall asleep. The reminders were all around him, after all. Padme’s wedding ring was in the pocket of the sweats he wore. Their photos were all over the house. The nursery he’d helped her set up had never been dismantled. There was a note from her still on the fridge. ‘Gone shopping. Be back soon. I love you, Ani.’ He’d memorized those words by heart because it was the last time she’d told him that she loved him. The sheets that had been on their bed the night their babies had bled out of her were still piled in their closet. These were the reminders flitting around his head like errant thoughts as his brain shut down, falling into sleep.
He woke to the sound of a pounding at the door. A scowl curled his lips and he shoved to his feet, lurching toward the front door. He glanced through the peep hole before opening the door and scowled at Ben’s face.
“What do you want?” Anakin demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ben’s eyes widened. “Anakin, I just wanted-”
“I told you to leave me the fuck alone. Did you think I was kidding?” Anakin growled. He stepped away from the door, preparing to slam it right in Ben’s face.
“What have I done to you?” Ben demanded, stepping forward. “What have I done to make you treat me this way?”
Anakin laughed and the sound was cold even to his ears. “Nothing. That’s the fucking point. My entire fucking life fell apart and it never occurred to you that I might actually need help.” He raised his chin, staring down at his old friend. “So, now you can fuck off.”
He did slam the door then, locking it and turning his back to it. He could still hear Ben standing on the porch and he blocked it out, blocked everything but the rushing in his ears and the tearing of his heart. Christ. Hadn’t he been hurt enough? Why couldn’t the universe give him a break? Even if it were only once. All he wanted was one fucking day where something didn’t remind him of his fucking past.
Anakin felt like the world was splintering around him as his back slid down the door, his body wracked with the sobs he’d been keeping inside. He wrapped his arms around his knees, sobbing into them until it felt like his chest would burst open. The rain kept pounding against the house all around him, but Anakin could no longer hear it.