
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1261717.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_-_All_Media_Types, Star_Wars_Prequel_Trilogy
  Relationship:
      Anakin_Skywalker/Granta_Omega
  Character:
      Anakin_Skywalker, Granta_Omega, Obi-Wan_Kenobi
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_-_Freeform, Rape, Non-Consensual_Drug_Use, Anakin_the_dope-slut,
      Non-Consensual_Bondage, Kidnapping
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-03 Words: 3435
****** the kind of lover you would never leave ******
by patientalien
Summary
     Anakin is taken captive by Granta Omega, and this time the stakes are
     a little higher as Obi-Wan searches for him.
Notes
     Written for citizenjess, because nobody but us write Granta Omega
     fic. Title from "Heroin Girl" by Everclear.
It’s not some dank dungeon or fetid slave hold that Anakin Skywalker finds when
he opens his eyes, but a stark and sterile room, all gleaming durasteel and
bright white lights. He’s strapped down to a metal table by his wrists, ankles,
and chest; the cold bite of the air tells him he’s entirely nude. His first
conscious thought once all of this registers is, ‘Not again. Obi-Wan’s gonna
kill me.’
His second conscious thought is that he needs to try and escape, but the straps
are tight and his grip on the Force is tenuous. He considers yelling, but
decides that would be a futile effort. Instead, he looks around trying to come
up with some way of getting himself out of his predicament.
There’s nothing helpful in his immediate field of vision, though the broken
circle emblem on one of the cabinets lining the walls tells him exactly who is
holding him. The realization sends tremorous chills up and down his spine. Just
as he focuses himself inward to try and control his suddenly erratic breathing,
the door of the room slides open and his captor enters.
"Awake so soon?" Granta Omega asks, striding over to him. "Your tolerance had
increased since last we met. Tell me, Anakin, have you been practicing?"
Omega’s voice is slimy, and he traces a finger down Anakin’s cheek, gripping
his jaw and forcing his head upward, to meet his cold gaze.
Anakin knows better than to speak immediately, to defend himself verbally
against Omega’s accusation. He grits his teeth as Omega continues to slide him
hands down his body, wincing as Omega skims ticklish sides, biting back a gasp
at the tweaked nipples, the finger slid down the length of his exposed cock.
“You’ve been working on your mouthiness too, I see,” Omega says with a feral
smirk. “Good boy. I think you deserve a reward.”
Anakin wants to snarl that he has no desire for anything Omega could offer,
reward or otherwise, but stays his tongue. He knows what Omega’s punishments
are like; the whip marks never did go away entirely. He just needs to draw this
out as long as he can until Obi-Wan gets here, that’s all. Because Obi-Wan will
always come for him.
Omega turns away from him, opening the cabinet and pulling out a vial and
syringe - Anakin blanches. “I’m sorry for the old fashioned equipment,” Omega
says, returning to Anakin’s side. “Hypo injectors aren’t easy to come by on
worlds like this.” He prepares the injection and Anakin desperately tries to
tap into his Force connection again, trying to sense his Master. But Obi-Wan
could be worlds away for all Anakin knows, and Omega is wrapping his arm with a
tourniquet now. “I think you’ll like this, though, Anakin,” he says softly,
sliding the needle in. He depresses the plunger and the world melts away.
———
Before today, Obi-Wan Kenobi could have counted on one hand the number of times
he’s really and truly lost his Padawan. To his dismay, he now has to utilize
the other hand. Of course in any other galaxy he shouldn’t have to use ANY
hands because as a Master he should know where his Padawan is at all times
because said Padawan would not be the disobedient, willful, and entirely too
overconfident Anakin Skywalker.
However, much as Anakin’s destiny is to one day bring balance to the Force, so
too is it Obi-Wan’s destiny to constantly feel out of his league with this
whole Mastership thing. Anakin is brilliant in many ways, and getting into
trouble seems to be how that brilliance has chosen to manifest itself most
recently. It hardly seems fair; Siri Tachi never has to worry about HER Padawan
disappearing in the middle of a diplomatic mission.
Still, Obi-Wan has a sense this isn’t just another of Anakin’s spurts of
wandering. There is nothing in this city, or even on the planet, that would
catch Anakin’s interest enough to take off during a short break in the
proceedings. No racing subculture, no nightlife, no garbage pits or abandoned
droid foundries. Nothing to entice a wayward young Padawan with a knack for
consistently being where he doesn’t belong. Thus, when the initial anger wears
off, Obi-Wan starts to worry and when one day becomes two and Anakin still
hasn’t emerged from whatever misadventure he’s unearthed for himself, Obi-Wan
apologetically, but firmly, puts a halt to the negotiations for the time being,
and starts to search.
———
He can feel something inside of him, filling him. Something else is around his
cock, keeping it erect. His wrists burn, his shoulders hurt. His jaw, forced
open by a crude metal ring, aches. The back of his throat feels raw. But over
it all there is a glistening haze, a heady sense of arousal and desire and a
deep, inescapable, euphoric sedation. It feels good here, Anakin decides during
a brief moment of lucid thought. Maybe everything will be all right.
——-
No one seems to remember exactly when Anakin had disappeared. One moment he was
there and the next he wasn’t, which admittedly isn’t much to go on. Obi-Wan
reaches out through their training bond, and though he can’t quite pinpoint a
location, he can sense a muddled confusion, a strange sensation of arousal and
fear. It’s then he realizes where Anakin had gone, and what the stakes now are.
With renewed vigor, he narrows his search.
——-
The boy has natural stamina, and the drugs only serve to heighten what nature
has so generously bestowed. “If only your Master could see this,” Granta Omega
croons softly, nestling his hand against Skywalker’s scalp, pressing his cock
deeper into the boy’s mouth and throat.
Skywalker’s eyes, glazed and lusty, flick up to meet his gaze and there is a
wanton desire in his distorted reflection. Good. The dope-slut; everything
before now has been leading up to this. Skywalker now seems ready to give up on
escape, ready to give over to Omega’s every whim. He’s not sure what’s happened
since the last time, but whatever it is has primed Skywalker nicely.
"We’ll be leaving soon," he says. Skywalker’s eyes widen in alarm for a brief
moment, but then he slides back into dazed complacency. "Good boy," Omega says
as he comes against the back of Skywalker’s throat. "Good boy."
——-
Obi-Wan Kenobi does not panic easily. It’s a skill he’s developed over many
years, out of necessity. Still, he is certainly inching up there the longer his
search for Anakin takes. He can tell from the sporadic images he’s getting from
the mostly-quiet training bond that Anakin is being held by Granta Omega, which
makes things monumentally more difficult. Omega is gifted at blending in, at
being unseen in plain sight. No one remembers if he was ever there.
Days are passing and Obi-Wan knows Omega’s tricks. He knows the longer Anakin
is there, the harder it will be to get him out, and the more difficult the
recovery process will be. Time is not on his side at the moment, and each dead
end leads him further and further towards that unwanted fear.
Granta Omega himself may not be memorable, a void where a person should be -
but his company is. Rather, his father’s company. Obi-Wan spends an entire day
going through public records, looking for any trace of Xanatos du Crion’s
corporation, and another two days knocking on doors at any address that comes
up as being associated. Three days doing grunt work on top of the days that had
already passed, while Granta Omega is doing Force-knows-what to his Padawan.
Except Obi-Wan has a pretty solid idea of what he’s going to find, he just hope
the damage will be reversible. 
——-
"And what did I tell you?" Omega asks him. He’s not sure how long he’s been
here, everything has been blurring together. Except now. Now he’s mostly-lucid,
now the last dose had been weaker than the others, and he’s regaining the
ability to think. Not well, not enough to think about escape, but enough to
realize that it hurt to think. 
And what did I tell you? Omega had asked him just now. It takes a few
repetitions of the words in his head to remember what they mean. “You said,” he
says, carefully, “I get… full dose…” Oh kriff, he’s shaking. 
"You get the full dose once you’ve done what I’ve asked," Omega croons, sliding
a hand down the side of his face. It’s a new game, one that just started today,
and Anakin isn’t sure why. They’d both seemed pleased with the arrangement as
it stood previously, he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly being tortured like
this. "And I want you to get on your knees."
The air is brutally cold - he doesn’t remember it being cold before now. If he
has to get on his knees in order to feel better… Obi-Wan would be so
disappointed in him. He knows the thought will go away as soon as Omega has
made good on his promise, so he sinks to the floor. 
——-
Desperation is not a very Jedi-like emotion, but Obi-Wan thinks perhaps he
could be given a pass due to extenuating circumstances. He’s nearing the end of
his list and he hasn’t found evidence of Granta Omega or Anakin at any of them.
The sick dread that they’ve gone off-world sticks in the back of his mind; if
that’s happened, his task will be monumentally more difficult. He realizes that
the time to inform the Council is fast approaching; if he doesn’t find his
quarry soon, he’s going to need to admit defeat and ask for assistance. It’s
the last thing he wants to do because he doesn’t want anyone else to see Anakin
in the state he’s sure to be in when he is finally found, not based on his last
few encounters with Omega.
He thinks he may have a break, though. Granta Omega does not make any imprint
in the Force, but suffering does and someone in this building is suffering. A
reach deeper into it’s eddies and suddenly it becomes clear that this is
ANAKIN’S pain he is feeling. He circles the building, small and squat, probably
no more than three rooms large, unless there is some underground bunker beneath
his feet (which would certainly not shock Obi-Wan in the slightest). The only
windows are mere slits just below the roof line, there is only one door.
He’s faced worse odds of success, but not by much. Reaching out with the Force,
he opens the door.
——-
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. He’s bent over the table he’s been strapped to
off and on for the past however-many days, his arms bound straight up from his
back, his legs lashed to the table legs. He can taste the metal gag in his
mouth, feel the rough leather of the collar around his neck. He can feel the
bruises up and down his arms from the injections. He feels his cock pressed
painfully between the table and his stomach. He can feel Omega slamming into
him, over and over. He wants to feel nothing, so he lets Omega continue.
“Please,” he tries to whisper around the gag.
Omega grunts over him, but fumbles out a hand, grabbing up a syringe and
slamming the needle hard into Anakin’s ass cheek. The relief is immediate and
Anakin sags against his bonds and lets Omega finish. He’s too far gone to
notice the door sliding open.
——-
There are no words for what he sees when he opens the door. No emotions that
would encompass everything he is currently feeling. Rage. Dismay. Disgust.
Fear. Anakin, his precious Anakin, is sprawled across a metal table, cheek
pressed flush against the surface, eyes open but clearly not lucid. He doesn’t
even blink when Obi-Wan appears. Omega, on the other hand, moves instantly,
extracting himself from Anakin and plucking the needle from where it had been
sticking, obviously forgotten after the dose.
Obi-Wan doesn’t move to counter immediately. He’s not sure what Omega’s plan
is; the man is dangerous - far moreso, Obi-Wan has come to realize, than his
father. Xanatos was planning and scheming and order. Omega is chaos and pain
for the sheer thrill of it. Xanatos had wanted to seduce Obi-Wan. Omega wants
to destroy Anakin. With that in mind, Obi-Wan is cautious. “It took you longer
than I expected,” Omega informs him blithely. “I was beginning to think you’d
tired of your little toy and I would get to keep him.” He smacks Anakin’s ass
and Anakin moans lustily.
"He is not my toy," Obi-Wan manages to get out. He’s figured out that the table
is not electrified, the collar around Anakin’s neck isn’t attached to anything,
the hook on the ceiling that Anakin’s arms are roped to is stationary. Anakin
won’t be in immediate danger if Obi-Wan acts, and so he does, drawing out his
lightsaber and advancing. He’s missed something, though, and Anakin screams in
agony as Omega flips a switch on the wall. Obi-Wan reaches out with the Force
and returns the switch to it’s original position, keeping it there. Anakin’s
screaming subsides.
"You can’t escape," Obi-Wan informs Omega. There’s only one door, and Obi-Wan
is in front of it. Omega smirks, and moves, faster than Obi-Wan could have
thought possible for a non-Force users. "Don’t try it!" he warns, unnerved by
the wild gleam in Omega’s eyes.
"I thought I’d get to keep him this time," Omega repeats, and now Obi-Wan can
see the trio of syringes in his hand. "But since I can’t keep him…" They’re
stuck deep in Anakin’s thigh before Obi-Wan can react. Anakin’s eyes,
previously simply dazed and heavy-lidded, have rolled back into his head and
he’s starting to seize on the table. It’s an easy decision to make and Obi-Wan
lets Omega run out the door in exchange for helping his Padawan. The knots are
complicated and he ends up just breaking through Anakin’s bonds with his
lightsaber, drawing the boy into his arms.
"Shh," he says. The narcotic antagonist that is part of his field kit has never
been used, though he’d come close the last time they’d encountered Omega. This
time he injects Anakin with it immediately, careful of the bruising track marks
along his arms and on his hands. 
Anakin’s convulsions subside and he blinks sleepily up at Obi-Wan. “M’naked,”
he slurs matter-of-factly and then falls asleep across Obi-Wan’s lap.
——-
Obi-Wan is the most thorough man Anakin has ever met, so he’s sure his Master
collected samples of whatever drug Omega had given him throughout his
captivity. He just needs to figure out how to get his hands on it, that’s all.
It’s a long trip back to Coruscant and Anakin’s skin is positively crawling. He
can’t get clean no matter how many showers he takes; everything hurts, he can’t
sit still. He can’t sleep, Omega’s face keeps appearing in his head, taunting
and hurting. 
If he could just get his head right until they got back to the Temple,
everything would be okay. Then he could detox in the Halls of Healing and go
back to how things were before. He just needs to convince Obi-Wan that this is
really the best idea. Luckily, he knows a little something about being
convincing. 
"Master," he says, pitching his voice low, husky, as he approaches the galley
table Obi-Wan is currently sitting at, looking intently at a datapad. "Master,
hey." When Obi-Wan looks up, Anakin licks his lips. "I was thinking…" He moves
closer, working hard to move his hips sensually. "I was thinking…" He’s not
sure exactly what to say. That he’s dope-sick and needs to get right until
they’re back home? That he’s willing to suck Obi-Wan off in order to do that?
He swallows heavily. "I was thinking," he says, a little stronger, "that we
don’t know if going off that stuff so fast is gonna be… harmful." 
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “And you think if I just let you have it until we’re
back at the Temple, things will be all right?” he asks, as if plucking the
thoughts right out of Anakin’s head. 
"I could make it worth your while," Anakin offers softly, looking down at the
floor, inching closer. "Whatever you want, just… Master… it hurts.” He’ll do
anything to ease the pain, to get that oblivion again until he can be really
and truly Healed. It’s not fair Obi-Wan’s denying him of this, it’s not fair!
Obi-Wan has no idea what this feels like. 
He flits his eyes upward, but Obi-Wan is just staring at him. “Oh, Anakin,” he
says, sounding so sad. Anakin has done this to him. He wants to disappear. He’s
itching for another hit, to make this all go away, but Obi-Wan looks so damn
disappointed in him. 
"Master," he tries again, and this time he does slide to his knees in front of
his Master, looking up at him plaintively. "Master, please."
Obi-Wan puts his hands on Anakin’s shoulders. “Do not ask this of me, Anakin,”
he says, voice shaking. “Do not push this.” It means he wants it, Anakin
thinks. It means he wants it and can’t admit to it. He moves closer, parting
Obi-Wan’s knees so he can slip between his legs, hands moving towards the
waistband of Obi-Wan’s pants. “Anakin, no!” Obi-Wan exclaims, jerking away
abruptly, standing. 
Anakin stands too, clenching his fists in impotent rage. The Force still is a
little slippery to grasp, but it’s coming easier and easier and Obi-Wan’s
datapad flies off the table to shatter against the wall. “ANAKIN!” Obi-Wan
shouts. 
Making a noise of wordless fury, Anakin stomps out of the galley. 
——-
The trip back to Coruscant is one of the most stressful things Obi-Wan has had
to endure. He’d thought he’d hidden the drugs well, locked them up securely,
but on the second day he’d found Anakin slumped against the wall, his boot lace
wrapped around his upper arm, the needle still sunk deep into his vein. 
After that, he keeps it all on his person at all times, taking careful
inventory every hour. Anakin figures it out quickly enough and all but begs
Obi-Wan for it. He’s ridiculous in his pleas, promising blow jobs and sex and
anything else he can think of - all of the things Omega demanded of him, none
of the things Obi-Wan would ask for. Not that he would trade Anakin’s well-
being for his own pleasure, but Anakin seems to think he would. 
The thought that Anakin is associating him with Omega like that, presuming one
is like the other, knifes at him. Hasn’t he treated Anakin better than that? He
knows it’s not really Anakin, it’s this damnable drug, the addiction mingling
with the trauma making Anakin highly irrational and entirely too willing to
degrade himself further. 
After the third time Anakin tries to coerce him in the same day, he sends the
boy to his quarters and locks the door from the outside.
——-
Anakin spends a week in a deep healing trance. Obi-Wan fears that it won’t
work, that he’ll wake up just as damaged as when he’d gone in. Vokara Che
assures him otherwise, promises that the work they’re doing will make things
right again. Obi-Wan isn’t so sure; Jedi methods don’t always work on his
strong-willed Padawan. 
Still, Anakin wakes with clear eyes, is able to hold a conversation, claims to
be feeling better. He still jumps at shadows a bit, still puts himself in
immediate range of any door. But gradually even this fades away. Obi-Wan tries
to get him to talk, but Anakin has none of it. Perhaps it’s for the better;
Obi-Wan has never been good at dealing with strong emotions properly anyway. 
——-
Anakin slips out of his bedroom window and lands gracefully on the permacrete
below. Tugging his hood up to hide his features, he heads down to the deep
lower levels. 
Everything seems muted down here, and that suits Anakin just fine. He’s been
working especially hard at the Temple, convincing everyone that he’s gotten
over what Omega did to him. And he has, mostly. He only wakes up thinking he’s
tied down three or four times a week instead of multiple times a night, now.
But there’s still the ache, the itch in the back of his mind that can only be
scratched in a very specific way. 
Obi-Wan never needs to know. Because down here, Omega’s brand of currency
reigns, and if nothing else, he has taught Anakin how to be a very, very good
boy.
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