Chapter Text
The music was deafening.
The scream of a guitar, ear-piercing. The heavy slam of drums, reverberated through his chest. The throb of it bounced around the confined space, off the concrete floor, rattling the wrenches and sockets sitting on the shelves that lined the walls. It made it impossible to hear ones own thoughts, pulverizing each one before it could fully form. That was just fine with Anakin.
The teenage boy lay, crowded up, half underneath an old sedan. The car was a project Anakin had been working on for the past couple of months. A customer of his mother's had left it at the garage after receiving the bad news; the engine was shot and the cost of replacing it more than the car itself was worth. Not wanting to pay to have it hauled off to a scrap yard, the old owner had agreed to sell it to Shmi for a small sum. The car was a tragic affair. Failed engine aside, the AC reportedly hadn't worked in years, the car's windshield had a crack running almost clear across the top, the rear bumper had definitely met an unmovable object or two, and it was, what Obi-Wan had dubbed, a truly regrettable shade of orange. Most importantly, however, was that it was all Anakin's.
Anakin had been spending more and more time up at the garage after the accident. He had always loved to watch Mom work, and had picked up a skill of two in his younger years. He had NEEDED to get out of the house, and had, not run, NEVER that, but went to go help out. Shmi had been talking about how increased business had been at work recently. It always picked up around this time of year, when the weather got hot again, and suddenly, all of those compressor repairs that could wait needed to be done yesterday. Shmi had been telling the boys about her day over dinner, the unofficial daily family meeting, and had let slip how some of her usual costumers had to be turned away. Smaller things, like oil changes and brake pad replacements, being pushed aside for the higher paying jobs. Shmi and Watto's garage just didn't have the staff to take care of all of their demand, and they needed to prioritize the jobs that would help make rent. Shmi maintained that rewarding loyalty to the garage, by taking care of their repeat customers, even if it would cost them in the short term, would build better relationships with their clients and ensure their continued future returns, but the garage was Watto's first and Shmi's second so she bowed to his wishes.
Anakin knew how to change oil, he had since he was tall enough to see over the hood of a car. He had volunteered to start helping out at the garage. Volunteered, because their was no way Watto was going to agree to hire another employee. That was fine, honestly, Anakin just needed to get out of the house, with it's hushed quiets and hovering older brothers. Watto wasn't heartless though, and, after some time, had agreed to allow Shmi to use some of the shops funds to buy, what was now Anakin's pet project, in payment for all his hard work.
Anakin had taken calling her the Twilight.
Anakin had been thrilled. The teen had started to panic when the customer flow had trickled back to normal and there wasn't much of a reason for him to be up there anymore . The hard work and long hours at the garage had kept his hands busy and mind empty. There wasn't anything at home like that for him. Or there hadn't been anyway. Now he had his car, for which Qui-Gon had agreed to buy a replacement engine, but only if Anakin put it in himself. As if he'd have allowed anyone else to have touched her anyway. Well... maybe Mom. It was a good thing they tons of extra tools and equipment, most all of it over flow from the garage, laying around at the house.
Anakin didn't know how long he had been down there, trying to figure just what was making that rattling noise whenever she accelerated, when he heard the door leading further into the house open.
"Really, Anakin?" came an exasperated voice.
He couldn't see Obi-Wan, not from where he was, buried half beneath the Twilight's chassis. He was debating the pros and cons of pretending like he hadn't heard his older brother, surely Obi-Wan would withdraw, chased off by the same noise he no doubt came to complain about, if Anakin just ignored him for long enough, when he felt the man in question kick at his booted feet. Heaving a sigh, Anakin rolled out from under the car.
Obi-Wan stood over him, looking as absolutely unimpressed as Anakin knew he would. He was wearing a pair of gray sweat pants and an old tee shirt. He had been studying then. Obi-Wan would never have been caught wearing such if he was going out. It wasn't a vanity thing, it just honestly embarrassed the older male to be seen by anyone, other than his family, in such casual attire. His older brother tended towards slacks and button ups, in varying neutral tones, if he was going to be seeing anyone else. Jackets or sweater vests as the temperature demanded. When Anakin was younger and full of hero worship, after his mom had married Qui-Gon, he used to run around trying to mimic his new older brother's fashion sense. Thankfully he had out grown that. Obi-Wan might argue that it was a shame. Said older brother raised an eyebrow and Anakin's continued silence.
Rolling his eyes, Anakin slowly climbed to his feet. He winced at the sharp pains, making themselves very known, as they stabbed at his knees. Groaning he raised the rest of the way ignoring the pops his joints were making.
The irritation was gone from Obi-Wan's face replaced with concern. He made to help Anakin, and opened his mouth, doubtless to ask the same stupid question that seemed to be on everyone's lips these days. The same question who's answer Anakin was absolutely sick of giving.
"Don't!" the younger man snapped.
Obi-Wan stepped back with a sigh, hands falling to his side. He had grown accustom to dealing with his younger brother's irritability, much the same as Anakin had grown accustom to the pain of day to day living.
"Did you need something?" Anakin asked when it looked like the man wasn't going to say anything further. Anakin wandered over to one of the tool tables, without waiting for a response. He picked through it's implements with no real goal in mind other than not having to look his brother's silent pity.
The volume of the music suddenly dropped as Obi-Wan found the remote for the stereo. Then, apparently unable to take a hint or understand simple instructions, "How are you feeling?"
Anakin had to remind himself that it would be very immature to throw the wrench he was holding across the room.
"Better before you came in."
Anakin flinched at his own words. He couldn't bring himself to turn and see Obi-Wan's reaction, and he hated himself a little more for his cowardice. The words were needlessly cruel, if true. The work and music kept him busy, helped him forget the pain in his bones that would never really go away, helped him forget the pain in his heart for a future that he would never get to live. But this, this was why he liked working at the garage. It emptied his mind, left him exhausted at the end of the day, and it took him away from the rest of his family, other than his mother, who, even at his worst, he could never lash out at. He hated that he caused those he loved pain, through his actions and words, that sometimes, like now, Anakin could swear were not his own, but sometimes just by existing. He hated the times when he'd catch his mom, watching him slowly walk up the stairs, as he relearned how to walk, with sadness in her eyes. Or when Obi-Wan would drop what he was doing, studying for school like always, to help Anakin preform simple tasks, things he would have, laughing, told Anakin to get off his lazy ass and do himself, but that was before.
The silence stretched, as the silences around the house tended to do these days, and Anakin's mood only grew darker. Why did he keep doing these things? Why couldn't he just think before he spoke? Why did he have to end up in a car wreck that shattered both of his legs?
He flinched again as he felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Can I help?' Obi-Wan asked.
Immediately the anger was back. Anakin turned around to snap something else, when he noticed Obi-Wan was indicating towards the car.
"What?" was his inelegant response. He just honestly wasn't sure what Obi-Wan was getting at.
"With the... car," he couldn't quiet hide the hesitation, Obi-Wan had never taken pains to hide exactly what he thought about the Twilight.
Anakin felt his lips twitch at the thought of his fastidious, anal retentive, somewhat-of-a-neat-freak brother covered in oil and sweat. "You don't know the first thing about cars!" The teen cried, two parts amused, one part horrified of Obi-Wan stepping anywhere near an engine.
His brother huffed. "How hard could it be really? It's just a machine, it's not like we're going to be preforming surgery." Anakin could hear the offense his reaction had risen in Obi-Wan, but for once it was almost good-natured.
Anakin's mouth fell open at the thought, of anyone, coming near his girl with anything short of complete competence. "No way! You're not even really tool monkey material!"
"I have no idea what that might possibly be, but I'm confident I could preform any such task better than a chimp," his older brother was trying to keep is reactions calm, but Anakin had known Obi-Wan most of his life, he could see his continued disbelief was starting to rile the older man.
Anakin's smirk was down right patronizing, "Of course, Brother."
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. "You know there used to be a time when you said that there was nothing I couldn't do."
"Yes, well, thank goodness that passed," Anakin sauntered back towards the Twilight, mood still floating somewhere around around the stratosphere. Obi-Wan? Mechanical? Honestly, what was the world coming to? Next he'd be trying to convince him that their dad was secretly some sort of space warrior trying to keep galactic peace.
Anakin had sat back down next to his baby, snaps, crackles, and pops going uncommented on by both parties. Even the pain hadn't managed to get the smile off the teen's face.
"Well?"
"Well, what, Obi-Wan?"
"Are you going to let me help, or not?" He seemed sincere.
"Hmm, bring me a phillips head screwdriver," Anakin decided to humor his older brother.
As he turned to the shelves, Anakin pulled himself back beneath the car, getting back to work. His girl wasn't going to fix herself after all.
Not too long after, Anakin heard a light tapping on the side of the car. "Is this what you're looking for?" his brother asked sounding smug.
Anakin lifted the tool his brother was holding under the car for inspection. He hadn't honestly needed one, but he'd hoped to distract the other for at least a little while, while he quietly googled what he was looking for then compared each of the screwdrivers to the image. That hadn't taken anytime at all though, It was the right one, he'd give credit where credit was due.
"Alright," looks like he was going to have to up his game a bit, "bring me a 3/8 socket." He needed this even less, but what his brother didn't know couldn't hurt Anakin.
This took longer, and Ani was sure he heard the soft pops of Obi-Wan's keyboard, but after a time his older brother was once again kicking at his feet to offer the requested item. The teen wasn't caught off guard this time, and had spent the meanwhile thinking up something that would really throw the other through a loop.
"Thanks," Anakin acknowledged. "Why don't you do ahead and bring me a dike?" he asked innocently.
There was a moment of silence, followed by some sputtering, "a what?"
Anakin, who had placed the retrieved piece next to it's compatriot, rolled out to blink up at Obi-Wan with wide eyes. "A dike," he repeated calmly.
Obi-Wan was staring at his little brother suspiciously. He stare all he wanted, Anakin wasn't backing down.
"...Okay..." Obi-Wan wandered back towards the perimeter of the room, and started to riffle through the instruments on display. Satisfied that he had bought himself plenty of time, Anakin got back to it.
Quite a bit of time, and a few suspect noises, later there was a clatter as something was dropped near his legs.
"There," Obi-Wan sounded exhausted, like Anakin had asked him to go do a few laps around the block rather than bring him a pair of wire cutters from across the room. Anakin couldn't help his smile as he lifted the dike in question.
"Very good," he praised, only to receive a swift, if gentle, kick at his feet. "Now bring me a hydrospanner."
"Now I known you're just making things up!" his brother groused.