Summary: After TPM, Obi-Wan returns to Coruscant and is met by
an old friend.
Feedback: Okay, we all love it, even if we don't like to admit
it. ;) And hey - I won't even try to mind-whammy ya for it :)
Thank Yous: Thank you kindly's to Master Kim, Holly and Kristi
for looking over this in various stages of being done. So any
errors are all their faults! ;P kidding, kidding :)
Disclaimer: Ya know, I wouldn't put Obi through the misery that
canon does... So I'm hoping it's painfully obvious that the
boys aren't mine.
It's late when the shuttle docks, and there are very few
waiting for it. Although the Temple is rarely ever fully
asleep, most of its inhabitants aren't out at such a late hour.
The same would be true for me on any typical night. Tonight,
however, is far from typical.
I force myself to be calm while the shuttle powers down. I
don't know what I will soon be faced with, but I have a fair
idea. If I am right, I will need all my wits about me. Soon
after the ramp is extended, the Council disembarks. I bow as is
due to their status, but remain quiet. The silence that presses
onto the hanger, broken only by their footsteps, is heavy. Even
with the new arrivals, it is as if a shroud covers the hanger.
"Padawan Bant." Master Windu is the only one to speak, simply
acknowledging my presence. They do not pause and continue on
their way. Most of the others who were waiting with me follow
them.
What happened on Naboo is not widely known - at least not yet.
I have no doubt that word of the Council's trip and the events
which preceded it will not be hidden for long. Especially given
the dark and foreboding looks on their faces. Even Master Yoda,
who is so often seen entertaining the youngest trainees, looks
aged and saddened. The rapping of his gimmer stick on the hard
floors echoes even after they are gone from sight.
I do know though. I know both what happened and when they were
returning. But only because I overheard my Master speaking with
Master Windu just before the Council departed. I had not
intended to eavesdrop, but once I heard that Qui-Gon had
fallen, I couldn't help but listen.
I had been fixing the evening meal, for my Master and myself. I
was about to ask if Master Windu was to join us, and had moved
as far as the kitchen doorway when I heard them speaking
quietly. I stood still, hardly daring to breathe as Windu
explained, rather quickly, what they thought to have happened.
The idea of a Sith, shocking though it was, was dulled by my
first thought of my friend. Master Qui-Gon lost. And Obi-Wan, a
newly made Knight . . . alone.
I thought my heart would break in that moment. I clutched my
arms across my chest and pressed my eyes closed. Almost from a
distance, I heard myself willing it to all be a
misunderstanding. I cannot imagine losing my Master, no Padawan
can. I have seen time and again how close - even for a Master
and Apprentice pair - Obi-Wan and Master Jinn are . . . or
were.
I wanted to cry out at the injustice of it, for the pains my
dearest friend must be feeling. With the exception of his
Master, I know Obi-Wan better than anyone, and he me. I
remember both the rejected boy I hugged goodbye before he left
for Bandomeer so many years ago and the self-confident man he
grew to become.
I didn't move. I couldn't move until sometime later, when my
Master called for me. I looked up from my place beside the
door, dazed, and saw him look at me with pain and understanding
in his eyes. He knew I had overheard, as well as how the
knowledge would affect me.
I never made a conscious decision to be there to meet Obi-Wan
when he returned. It was simply a fact in my mind, from the
moment I heard the news, that I would be. Luckily my Master
understood. He gave me a hug, his face sad, but a distant smile
on his lips. He made to grant me the free time I might require
at my oldest friend's lonesome return.
Now, watching several other passengers exit the transport, I
can still hardly believe it. From time to time, my Master and I
would be in the Temple when they would arrive home from a
mission. In my mind, it is as if I can see those times,
overlaid one on top of each other. Worn and tired, rested and
at peace. They merge into a single flowing image, I blink,
forcing the idea away.
Even still, I find myself expecting to see Master Jinn walking
down the ramp. Tired perhaps, but he would still the epitome of
a Jedi Master. And Obi-Wan would follow, a smile on his face
just for me. Knowing the harrowing truth, this is what part of
me thought I would see.
As we've grown, the time we've had to share together has been
less and less. Both of us are away from the Temple often,
making any length of time together rare. Even still, what time
we have shared is as if we have never been apart. "Friends 'til
the end" was something one of us joked, half a lifetime ago
while still initiates. We laughed and smiled, then finished
eating and went to class. It's funny the half-sworn oaths you
will cling to in your life.
The memories I get lost in for the briefest moment are nice,
but fleeting. The reality I'm faced with when I finally see
Obi-Wan is enough to make my heart ache and my breath catch.
This is not the reserved, yet forever alive with an energy and
humor, boy that I have known. So often Obi-Wan hides his
feelings - pain, joy, love, loss. While I truly expected him to
do nothing else, my stomach clenches at the pale-faced,
gaunt-cheeked shell before me. In losing the soul most dearest
to him, my friend has lost the spark that makes him who he is.
Although my kind do not cry as humans do, I find myself wishing
for the first time that I could weep. So much more was lost on
Naboo than the reports claim. The proof is right before my
eyes.
Obi-Wan exits quickly, hardly sparing a glance around the
hanger. I have just enough time to see a small boy following
him before my gaze returns to my friend. I blink slowly and
move so as to meet him. There is no smile for me this time,
hardly a glance of recognition. I've never seen his
ever-expressive eyes look so empty. Not even being assigned to
the Agri-Corps caused such destruction.
I'm standing right in front of him, and for a moment I think
he's looking right through me. He stops just short of literally
walking into me and finally meets my eyes. I nod slightly,
unable to speak and not even bothering with trying to smile.
There will be no easy glazing over the tragedy that has brought
us to this moment.
There is a brief flash of pain in his eyes before I'm pulled
into a tight embrace. He presses his face into my shoulder, and
I can feel him shaking. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around
his chest, holding him as tightly as he does me.
I cannot count the number of hugs we have shared in the many
years we have known one another; yet this one is different -
primal and desperate. For the moment I am content to hold him,
in the hope he will remember that there are those of us who
will always stand by him given the opportunity. He's done the
same for me, countless times before.
Neither of us speak; rather, a tumult of emotion washes over me
- a fierce sense of protection and a shared sense of loss.
Obi-Wan and I have always been sensitive to one another, this
time is no different. I hold the Force close around us, hoping
however futilely to warm him, both heart and body.
The moment is broken when the child clears his throat, causing
Obi-Wan to pull away. When I manage to meet his eyes now, they
aren't quite as empty.
He takes my hand and squeezes it. Obi-Wan then turns to the boy
behind him and motions him forward. I wince when my friend
tries to speak. The scratchy, raw noise makes it sound as if he
hadn't spoken in some time. He clears his throat, and I can
only wonder if he's spoken at all since Qui-Gon's death. He
tries again, and this time it doesn't sound quite as painful.
"Bant, this is my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker." He rests a hand
on the boy's shoulder for just a moment. I know I am unable to
keep my surprise from showing. I look from Obi-Wan to the boy
and back again. A million questions race around the shock that
has settled in my mind. With everything I had learned,
everything that had changed, how had I not known my friend to
now be a Master as well?
I suddenly want to smile; I can't help but be impressed. There
is no doubt that Obi-Wan will make an excellent Master. He was,
after all, taught by the best. Were he here, Qui-Gon would have
been proud, I'm sure.
It is this thought of Qui-Gon that sobers me. So much light is
gone from Obi-Wan's eyes. Will this child be the one to find it
again, or will he suffer from its absence? I shake my head at
such a thought. Such doubts are unworthy of the man I'm
attributing them to. I try to smile at Obi-Wan, but I can't
manage it.
Obi-Wan continues, apparently choosing not to mention my
reaction. "Anakin, this is my best friend, Padawan Bant."
The small boy with the wide blue eyes finally looks up at me.
The mixture of awe and confusion on his face might be humorous
at some other time. I'm sure mine would be as well.
"Hello, Anakin Skywalker," I say with a nod. I find myself
curious if he's ever seen a Mon Calimari before. Judging by his
reaction, probably not.
The child looks from Obi-Wan to myself and back to Obi-Wan. He
opens his mouth, but looks hesitant to speak. Obi-Wan nods and
he goes ahead. "I thought Master Qui-Gon was your best friend."
Obi-Wan winces at the question, although someone who doesn't
know him very well might have missed it. Recognizing it, I hold
his hand even tighter trying to lend silent support. I feel the
tight surge of pain, pushed back and hidden away.
Anakin quickly realizes his mistake and blushes. Before Anakin
can apologize, Obi-Wan kneels in front of the boy. Obi-Wan
tries to smile, but the gesture doesn't reach his eyes. He uses
his free hand to brush a fallen lock of hair from Anakin's
forehead.
I can feel him using the Force to try and soothe the boy, even
amid his own grief, and I long to kick myself for my earlier
doubts. For all their differences and faults, Obi-Wan is the
best of his Master. The compassion he shows this child is
surely proof of that.
"It is alright, Anakin." He takes a breath and lets it out
slowly. I can almost hear him gathering his thoughts. "There
are many kinds of friends. Some of us, if we are lucky enough,
are granted more than one best friend."
When he pauses, I kneel next to Obi-Wan. I feel like I should
help in some way. I glance at Obi-Wan, silently asking
permission to interfere. When he nods in return, I see a
grateful glint in his eyes.
Even after so much time, I can read his expressions like the
proverbial book. Only I wish it were the mischievous pranks of
years past that we were secretly planning now. Instead the air
is somber, and there are no hidden giggles to give away our
plans.
I look at Anakin and blink slowly. "Every Padawan is close with
their master, Anakin. This is as it should be." I squeeze
Obi-Wan's hand and I try to smile at him. "Some are especially
so. And there are those of us, who grew up together, that are
the best of friends as well."
I breathe a sigh of relief when Anakin doesn't question
further, but rather nods and even bows. With that small
acceptance some of the tension fades. "Nice to meet you,
Padawan Bant." His voice is polite, but tired.
Standing, I tug Obi-Wan up as well. It's easy to see that
Anakin is fading fast, rubbing his eyes with the back of his
hand. Looking at Obi-Wan more closely, I can see that he is all
but about to fall asleep on his feet. I doubt he's slept since
defeating the Sith - since losing Qui-Gon. I wonder if he
cannot sleep, or if he has even tried.
I try again to smile, barely managing it. The urge to make sure
he takes care of himself is overwhelming. It seems we take
turns at what one of our masters coined the 'mother hen
compulsion.' This time, it is my turn, and it is a duty I bear
gladly.
I lower my voice almost to a whisper and I address them both.
"It's late, why don't you turn in for the night?"
There is the slightest flinch in Obi-Wan's expression, and I
know he is wary of returning to the quarters he shared with
Qui-Gon. I can sense the apprehension that hangs around him
like a thick blanket. It is then that I'm struck by the fact
that there is more going on than I know. Something else
happened on Naboo.
I see Anakin glance at Obi-Wan before nodding. Obi-Wan,
however, merely shakes his head. He refuses to meet my gaze,
and instead turns to his new Padawan. "We'll get you settled in
then, Anakin."
The boy nods, and soon we are walking through the deserted
corridors of the Temple. We approach an intersection of
hallways, and I look at Obi-Wan. There are still other options,
and I try to read his gaze. Debating for a moment, I then make
my offer. "Would you rather we go to my quarters for the night?
My Master won't mind sparing the room for you."
It's painfully obvious that he is torn at the prospect. To
avoid the empty quarters one more night or face the memories
head on. I do not say anything while he thinks about it, and
after the initial confusion on Anakin's face, it appears he
understands as well.
"No, I think it would be best . . ." He pauses. Even were I
unable to sense his debate, the faraway look in his eyes makes
me certain he is far from convinced that it would be best to
retire to his and Qui-Gon's shared quarters. With a shake of
his head, he continues. "They are still my quarters, and they
will be so in the future." The words 'even without Qui-Gon'
seem to hang off of the end of his statement.
His voice sounds hollow, echoing oddly off of the cold metal
walls of the hallway. As such, he speaks in a gruff whisper.
"We should go there." He finally meets my gaze. "Thank you,
though."
Rather than disagree, I merely nod. As soon as he is done
speaking he is once again looking everywhere but at me. "Sure,
Obi."
Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a second before looking at his
Padawan. Pointing to his left, he says, "This way, Anakin, it
is just a little further."
When we begin walking again, it feels as if we are moving more
slowly the closer we come to the apartment. I know it is only
my imagination, but coupled with the dread I can feel from
Obi-Wan, it is there all the same.
I realize, rather belatedly, that Obi-Wan is still holding onto
my hand. Just as we reach the door and he enters the lock code,
I squeeze it gently in support. He glances at me as the door
slides open. The look on his face tells me that there is no
going back, even though he might have gladly avoided what we
are doing. But to avoid this wouldn't be Obi-Wan, and although
I expected as much it still pulls at my heart.
"Ready?" I ask in a hushed whisper, looking toward the door
with mixed feelings.
He nods, and motions for Anakin to enter first. The small boy
walks inside and turns in a circle, trying to take everything
in at once.
We follow him inside, Obi-Wan stopping just inside the door.
Seconds later, Anakin looks to his Master with wide eyes. "Is
this where you grew up?"
Knowing the conversation that is to come, I pull my hand free
of my friend's, retreating into the kitchen to make tea. Just
before I leave the room I see Obi-Wan shake his head. "No, I
moved here when I was a few years older than you are now."
"With Master Qui-Gon." The voice is low, and it is not a
question.
Even though I cannot see him, my mind provides me with the look
that must be on Obi-Wan's face at that statement. It hurts to
even imagine. "Yes, with my Master," he replies quickly, almost
a wistful tone in his voice.
The water is set to boil and I move to stand in the kitchen
doorway. I'm far enough away as to not interfere, but I feel
better being closer to them should they need me.
I've just stopped walking when Anakin surprises me by launching
himself at Obi-Wan. He barely has time to kneel down before the
golden-haired child latches onto him. I can feel his surprise,
but Obi-Wan wraps his arms around the boy without hesitation.
"I'm sorry," the boy whispers, so low I barely catch it but
still full of emotion. Obi-Wan looks at the child, something
close to shock in his eyes. In the dim light I can just make
out the shine of tears on Anakin's cheeks, and almost before I
realize it, Obi-Wan is brushing the moisture away.
"I know you miss him." Anakin's words are further muffled by
Obi-Wan's tunics, as he presses his face into Obi-Wan's chest.
Obi-Wan closes his eyes and I take a step forward when I see
the tremor of muscle along his jaw, but I hold back. I can feel
the surprise mixed with pain that flares within Obi-Wan at the
soft-spoken words. For all the awkwardness between them, I am
somewhat grateful for the boy's presence. There is too much
grief here to be mended by one person.
I leave them to their privacy and again move into the kitchen.
I busy myself finishing the tea before I hear Obi-Wan speak
again. However, the distance and the small noise of the boiling
water makes it so I cannot make out what is said.
When they walk into the small kitchen, Anakin's cheeks are
pink, but there is no sign of more tears. As I turn my
attention from him to Obi-Wan, I can still sense the swirling
emotions, but outwardly he is again stoic and composed. I find
myself thinking that maybe he is a little too much like his
Master.
Not speaking, I mix the tea leaves in three cups. Although
Anakin climbs into one of the chairs at the dining table, he
already looks to be half asleep. He's using his hand to brace
up his head, and the bright blue eyes are far from the wide
eyes I saw when I first met him.
I hand Obi-Wan a cup of the tea and guide him toward the other
chair. He fights me at first, but gives in when I fix him with
a stare that allows no argument.
After dropping into the chair, he looks at me. "You're the
guest, you should be sitting down, not me."
"I'm hardly a guest, Obi." I can't help it; I almost smile.
He's miserable and still being polite, far more polite than
when we used to spar one another, or cause trouble and end up
with any imaginable chore. "I never have been, I know too many
of your dirty little secrets."
I wink at Anakin, hoping my attempt at levity isn't unwelcome.
It is a familiar conversation, had more than once when one of
us hoped to keep the other in line. Anakin, for his part, looks
sleepy, but suddenly curious.
I'm relieved when Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. "As if I have any
secrets worth telling." He doesn't smile, but his voice has a
hint of humor in it.
"Oh, one or two I'm sure."
Each of us refrain from mentioning the one person who, at this
point in our well-known conversation, would have acted most
interested in learning this supposed dirt on my friend. That
part of the act has most decidedly changed.
Taking a drink of my tea, I gesture toward Obi-Wan. "Besides,
I'm not the one who looks like he's about to fall over."
Obi-Wan shakes his head, and gestures toward Anakin. I smile,
seeing the untouched cup of tea sitting before the now-sleeping
youth. How he managed to fall asleep with his head pillowed on
his arms without me noticing, I have no idea.
"No, he is the one who would seem to be falling over." There is
the faintest hint of humor in the tired eyes. After taking
another sip of the tea, Obi-Wan stands once more. Moving around
the table, he easily picks Anakin up and carries him through
the living area.
I follow the two of them and hover in the doorway while Obi-Wan
places Anakin in the bed that had long been his own. When I
manage to tear my eyes from the sad sight, I remember the many
sleepovers that occurred in this room.
Those were much happier times. Even though most of them were
followed by some form of cleaning duty or another. The rooms
never lacked for laughter and chaos when a group of us were
together. I never imagined there would be a day the laughter
would fade to grief.
Obi-Wan stands and I walk over to him and rest my hand on his
shoulder. I can only make out his profile, but it is easy to
see that he is looking at the sleeping child with unfocused
eyes.
"Obi?" I finally ask, after several long moments.
He startles slightly and turns to look at me. For the first
time since he came home I can see everything he's feeling.
Blue-green eyes are shining with emotions that have been buried
for too long. I cannot blink, not wanting to risk breaking that
fragile contact.
Tilting my head toward the door, I silently suggest that we
leave the slumbering child alone. He nods, wrapping an arm
around my shoulders as we turn and leave the room.
We pull the bedroom door closed behind us. Choosing to stay in
the main room and sit on the couch, our tea is left forgotten,
cooling in the kitchen. I curl up on my side and tuck my legs
up under me, turned so that I can face my friend directly.
He looks so . . . vulnerable. Even when I went to say goodbye
before he left for Bandomeer he didn't look so lost. Reaching
out a hand, I rest mine on top of his. He fixes his gaze on our
hands, but doesn't speak.
Knowing it will be best if I wait for him talk in his own time,
I stay silent as well. The light shining in from the kitchen
falls across his face and I can see every shifting change in
his expression. They tell a story all their own without words,
and the sadness there is hard to comprehend.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
When Obi-Wan finally speaks I almost jump, his hushed words so
suddenly slicing the silence. There is nothing I can say to his
comment, so I merely wait for him to continue. It is several
seconds later, but when he begins again, my friend finally
meets my gaze.
There are tears shining in his blue-green eyes. "What am I
supposed to teach a Padawan, Bant? I'm barely a Knight myself."
A thousand responses come to mind, but I am kept from replying
when he looks away and continues speaking. "He was Qui-Gon's
discovery, the Chosen One." Obi-Wan meets my gaze again, and
the empty expression there is painful. "His destiny, his faith.
Not mine."
I shake my head. "You don't know that, Obi."
The tears he's been fighting, probably for days, fill his eyes.
When he shakes his head roughly from side to side several tears
slip free. "Yes I do, Bant. I can feel it." Suddenly he stands
up and begins to pace next to the couch. "He stood in front of
the Council and took Anakin as his Padawan. Right in front of
me."
He looks at me, and for an instant there is a wild grief on his
face before it is replaced with guilt. Barely pausing in his
restless movement, he speaks. "Am I wrong to have wished for
some warning before being cast aside?"
The edge to Obi-Wan's voice surprises me, almost as much as
what he's telling me. I have known Qui-Gon to follow his heart
when he believed in something, even impulsively, but never with
such a casual disregard to others - especially Obi-Wan. I don't
have time to speak before he all but collapses back onto the
couch, the fight draining out of him.
Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he continues to unfold his
shocking tale. "He was denied. Afterward, we fought. The few
times we spoke we disagreed - about the boy, about our
mission."
He's staring at the couch, but I doubt he's seeing it. Looking
at his eyes it is easy to see he is reliving the events as he
tells me about them.
His voice fails him, fading to the faintest whisper. I can
hardly breathe as he finishes. "The trip back to Naboo was
neither a short trip nor an easy one." Regret joins the
overlapping emotions on his face.
I can see the nervous energy draining out of him. Up until now,
it was that energy and sheer stubborn determination keeping him
on his feet. "We hardly spoke. Even when I first met him,
before Bandomeer." He takes a breath, and lets it go shakily.
"He was never so . . . removed."
Obi-Wan swallows nervously, pausing in his tale. "He spent time
with the boy . . ." He stops, visibly correcting himself.
"Anakin. He spent his time with Anakin and I was alone."
He shifts enough so as to stare toward the window, the faint
light highlighting the shadows in his eyes. "I apologized . . .
but we were running out of time, there was a battle to be
fought."
Finally he looks at me, the tears are back in his eyes and I
blink quickly. "Oh, Obi . . ."
"When we fought the Sith I was left behind . . ." His voice
fades out, and I pull him into a hug. Neither of us speak, and
I can feel him trembling roughly. A few seconds later he sniffs
and pulls back, a hard won composure on his face. Obi-Wan
glances away once more, wiping at the moisture on his face with
his sleeve.
"He asked me to train his Chosen One right before he," he
clears his throat and blinks hard. I know what is coming, but
it doesn't make it any easier to hear. "Right before he died."
I wipe fresh tears from one of his cheeks. I am struck by the
certainty that this is the first he has spoken of what has
happened. Everything that happened, not just the duel. It was
only a matter of time before he talked to someone or exploded
from the pressure of keeping it bottled up inside of him.
Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut, and I'm suddenly worrisome of
what might come next. I try to steel myself for the worst,
knowing that I could not deny him the chance to finish his
miserable tale. When he does, I am more surprised than I ever
would have imagined possible.
The words seem to catch in his throat; he chokes around them
but manages an empty whisper. "He didn't even say goodbye."
He blinks at the moisture in his eyes, as if he's ashamed of
the tears that slip down his face. Obi-Wan looks at me and I
can almost hear him begging me to understand. His voice is
bitter, but the emotion is aimed solely at himself. "It
shouldn't upset me. I am a Jedi first."
He looks toward the bedroom. "I am not the child. I shouldn't
be acting like one."
"No," I agree, speaking hesitantly. "You're not a child, but
you were his Padawan." He looks at me, and I can see he doesn't
understand. Maybe he doesn't want to understand, I don't know.
Again I find his hand with my own. "You're not wrong for being
hurt, Obi."
He looks away; unshed tears filling his eyes before they too
fall. "I feel like the ground has been pulled out from under my
feet." The words are slow and stilted and I nod, unable to
reply. I've never seen him so confused and it causes my own
emotion to catch in my throat.
More tears break free, and he closes his eyes tightly. Moving
quickly, I pull him into my arms. I hold him with all the
strength I can manage, closing my eyes when I feel him shaking
helplessly against the tears. Murmuring under my breath, I
speak nonsense words to try and calm him.
We are quiet for a few moments, still holding onto one another
- his heart breaking for his Master, and mine for him. Still
speaking softly, I begin to rock back and forth, my hands
rubbing his back.
It is easy to tell, even though his face is hidden from me,
that Obi-Wan is losing his fight to stay awake. The drive to
keep moving for so long is finally fading. Exhausted, he is
giving into the silence that fills the room.
His shaking finally stops, the stifled noise of his tears fades
and his arms' grip loosens. Pulling back, I smile sadly. Wiping
tears from his face, I watch as his eyes finally stay closed.
He's still sitting up, leaning against the back of the couch.
Glancing around I find a blanket and move to retrieve it before
maneuvering Obi-Wan so that he is lying down on the couch.
Using the blanket I cover him with it, pausing long enough to
sigh softly at the pained look that is on his face, even in
sleep.
I kneel there for a moment, before using the comm board to
speak with my Master. After I finish telling him of my plans, I
turn off the kitchen light and find another blanket. Curling up
in the chair that sits close to the couch, I simply watch over
my friend.
I don't intend to fall asleep during my vigil, but I must have
done so because the next thing I am aware of is a burst small,
protesting noises coming from the couch. Suddenly wide-awake, I
hurry to Obi-Wan's side and rest a hand on his shoulder.
I can feel his nightmare, and using the Force I try to disperse
the images. I do my best to calm him, but a restful sleep is a
long time in returning.
When he does finally still, the nightmare's hold broken, I have
no idea how much time has passed. I stand from where I had
dropped to the floor, and return to the chair.
More time passes, and this time it is not the sounds of a
nightmare that wake me. Rather, the room is eerily still when I
am roused from sleep once more. After listening for whatever
might have woken me, I blink and see a dull light. Its source
is next to my friend.
I freeze, my mouth hanging open but silent. I look back and
forth between the two figures, and again try to speak but my
voice has failed me.
The second figure, kneeling next to the bed shakes his head and
places a single finger over his lips. It is no problem, really.
Even though I want nothing more than to wake my friend, my
shock has rendered me mute. I never really believed in Force
ghosts before, much less have I ever seen one.
The visitor then smiles faintly and nods before turning his
attention back to Obi-Wan. My friend is still sleeping, unaware
of his stealthy visitor. His back is to me, but I can just make
out him pressing a softly glowing hand to Obi-Wan's cheek.
After some time the shimmering figure drops his hand and moves
from his place next to the couch. He looks at me, smiling
sadly.
"Why?" I finally manage to ask in a whisper. Looking from the
man to Obi-Wan, I shake my head, not understanding. "Why not
wake him?"
The other shakes his head. "For the moment he has what he
needs." I can't help but think the man has finally lost what of
his good sense he had remaining.
"How can you say that?" Forgetting the difference in our
status, I push onward, my voice strained. I gesture toward him,
fighting a sudden burn of anger. "You're what he needs."
Again he shakes his head, and I crush the urge to reach over
and shake it loose from his shoulders. "Just because there are
things we cannot see, does not mean they are not there."
"I can see you," I reply, glancing at Obi-Wan who is still
sleeping soundly. "Why shouldn't he? Obi's the one who is
missing you."
At that, he lowers his gaze for a moment. "Things are as they
must be," he says sadly. I follow his gaze when he too looks
over at Obi-Wan. "There are things even I cannot change."
Sadness fills me at the thought, and I look at the man
imploringly. "At least tell him goodbye. Let me wake him, so
that you can say goodbye." I realize that I am close to
begging, but it is for my friend's sake, and I find that I do
not care.
I know he hears me, but he does not reply. After another long
look at the sleeping Knight, he meets my gaze with his eyes
full of regret. "Thank you, Padawan Bant."
"What?" I blink quickly, caught off guard by the sudden change.
I watch as he almost smiles at my surprise before he sobers.
"Thank you for being there. For Obi-Wan. You've been good
friends for so long, I am grateful that you were here, this
time especially."
I nod but don't reply. Some part of my mind is screaming that
this is a dream. Even when a larger part knows that it is not.
My debate is ended when he begins to fade away. "Watch out for
each other." The ghost smiles briefly at his next statement.
"You should have enough practice by now."
I want to smile, if only for appearances sake, but I cannot. My
whispered oath echoes through the darkening room. "We will,
Master Qui-Gon."
When he is gone I look at Obi-Wan and notice that the earlier
marks of pain on his face have faded. In slumber, he finally
looks peaceful. Thankful for that, I smile.
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