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Summary: Obi-Wan's probation gets off to a rocky start.

Rating: PG

Category: Angst, H/C

Spoilers: JA series through #8

Disclaimer: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda belong to George Lucas. Bant and Tahl belong to Dave Wolverton and Jude Watson. Technically, I suppose Aalto belongs to Dave, but Padawan Li'Ann brought him to life in Postcard #13. Sedjik is Li'Ann's as well, from the same Postcard. Thanks for letting me borrow!!

Archive: Padawan Journals, Early Years, QJEB, Wolfie, Star Wars Hotline, M_A, any who want it

Acknowledgments: This story is for Denise Marie, my dear sister and best friend, and for Padawan Li'Ann. They have been reading this for more than two months now, and I'm so grateful for their excellent suggestions and tons of encouragement! Additional thanks to Li'Ann for her medical expertise -- and for first suggesting, when I had writer's block, that I write a probation story. Thanks, Li'Ann! You've been a *great pal*. I'll make sure mom doesn't sell you or anything. <G>

*Author's Note: This story was inspired primarily by one of Qui-Gon's lines at the end of JA#8: "You are my Padawan, Obi-Wan. I do not need the Council to tell me so."

Part One

Obi-Wan Kenobi stretched out restlessly on his sleep couch, fighting for a more comfortable position. Despite his best efforts, sleep was eluding him tonight. He looked around his room distractedly, as though seeing it for the first time. His home since leaving the creche, the room had once been familiar and welcoming. It seemed so foreign to him now! He was grateful that the Council had allowed him to retain his old quarters during his probation, but... Obi-Wan knew where he belonged. And it was not here in the initiates' wing.

He stared at the ceiling, his eyes drawn to the small model fighters that circled quietly above. How many years ago had he built those? Five? Felt more like fifty.

Obi-Wan's evening meditations had gone poorly, and his mind was far too full. Vivid images from the last several weeks flashed relentlessly through his head. It was very disquieting, and he tried to push his troubled thoughts away. Replaying these images now would do him little good. He knew it would take countless hours of meditation and reflection to bring order to the chaos of recent events.

But it wasn't only images of the past that held his sleep at bay. It was also anticipation of the future. And anxiety for the present.

Obi-Wan impatiently punched at his pillow, and rolled to his side with a frustrated sigh. He had an early session with the Council in the morning, the first official meeting of his probation, and he had no desire to attend it exhausted. But the harder he reached for sleep, the more elusive it became.

Obi-Wan.... Quiet your mind.

Obi-Wan blew out a tired breath. He was chiding himself in Qui-Gon's voice now, was he? If his master were here, that's just what he'd say. He'd say

Padawan. Calm.

Obi-Wan blinked, then stilled his body and listened with his mind.

Don't fight. Let your thoughts flow.

He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath.

Open. Relax. Release.

Obi-Wan gave up the struggle and allowed the jumble of images to flow freely.
Visions of war, brutal and confused.
Triumph. Loneliness. ....Horror.
Cerasi. Her green eyes devoted and solemn. Her warm palm pressed to his.
Cerasi. Dying in his arms.

Obi-Wan bit back a sound of raw pain.

Bruck. Eyes wide with panic. Fingers brushing his, then falling away.
Bruck. Dead and twisted on the rocks below.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
Xanatos. Eyes burning with hatred. Hands gripping a blood-red saber.
Xanatos. Disappearing into a deadly, swirling pool of blackness.

Obi-Wan brought his hands to his eyes and slowly shook his head. He had seen more death in the last few months than he had seen in his first thirteen years.

Padawan. Release.

Obi-Wan envisioned the stream of images flowing slowly from his mind, swirling up to the ceiling, his tension and sorrow trailing behind them like the tail of a kite. Circling above him, like the toy ships from his childhood. Dissipating into a soft mist... and gradually fading away. He sighed, and felt his knotted muscles ease as he settled deeper into the mattress beneath him.

Breathe. Good.

Tentatively, Obi-Wan stretched out with his mind. //Qui-Gon. Master. Is that you?//

//Yes. Rest well now, Padawan.//

//I will, Master. Thank you. Thank you.//

Obi-Wan was too nervous to eat, but he wandered to the dining hall in search of some tea. The big room was quiet, with only a handful of early risers enjoying breakfast before starting the day.

Obi-Wan stared without interest at the food on display. He passed by, poured himself a cup of strong tea, and went to sit alone by the large window overlooking the kitchen gardens. Glowing in the soft light of dawn, a pair of tiny, white flutterwings hovered among the flowers and herbs. It was a lovely scene, and he tried to open himself to its tranquility.

A few tables away, several padawans sat chatting quietly together. Vaguely, Obi-Wan noticed their voices become hushed, and after a moment he felt furtive glances turn his way. He looked over at the group as he blew into his steaming tea. He saw their eyes drop. Their conversation slowly continued in low tones.

Obi-Wan took a sip of his drink and turned back to the window with forced casualness. He was pretty sure he knew what was being discussed at the other table. It suddenly occurred to him how strange his situation must seem to them. Here was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the boy who dared to leave the Jedi Order after barely a month of service as a padawan. The boy who returned to the Temple shortly afterward, and battled... to the death... with his long-time rival. The boy who left again, tagging along with his estranged former master on a mission not sanctioned by the Council. The boy who sat alone, hoping now to be accepted back into the fold.

Obi-Wan heard a quiet ripple of laughter from the padawans, and he set his cup aside with an unsteady hand. A moment later, he tensed with apprehension when the whispering at the other table abruptly stopped.

The warm hand on his shoulder made him jump. Obi-Wan glanced up, and with a rush of gladness saw Qui-Gon standing beside him. "Good morning, *Padawan*," said Qui-Gon amiably, and a bit loudly. Obi-Wan stifled a laugh as he realized Qui-Gon stressed his title for the benefit of the neighboring table.

"Good morning, Master," he replied with a broad smile.

Qui-Gon settled comfortably beside Obi-Wan on the bench, ignoring the curious glances directed their way. "I hoped to find you here. How did you sleep?"

"Well. Thanks to you."

"Good. Are you prepared for your Council session?"

"I... think so."

"You'll be fine. Just remember to speak honestly and calmly. They are concerned with your best interests, Obi-Wan. You may not always agree with them, but you must listen with an open mind and a willing heart."

"I will, Master. I promise. Tell me, how did your report go yesterday?"

"As well as can be expected," said Qui-Gon soberly. "The Council still disapprove of my decision to follow Xanatos. Disapprove, I think, of my perceived motives. But when they learned of his actions, of his plans for Telos, they agreed that he had to be stopped." He paused and gazed out the window before adding, "Of course, they were not pleased that my former padawan chose to face death rather than justice."

Obi-Wan nodded, and they sat companionably for a moment, watching the morning light gradually brighten the little garden. Obi-Wan felt his tension ease, and he wondered idly if Qui-Gon was purposefully drawing it from him.

Eventually, Qui-Gon roused himself and stood. "I must go now, Padawan. When you meet with the Council, remember: allow the Force to be your guide. You will do well." Seemingly from nowhere, he produced a ripe muja fruit and tossed it to Obi-Wan. "Eat your breakfast," he said with a smile, and with a quick squeeze of Obi-Wan's shoulder, he left.

Obi-Wan knelt before the Council, feeling as though a cloud of flutterwings swarmed in his stomach. "Masters," he murmured in greeting.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," began Mace Windu. "You appear before the Jedi High Council to begin your probationary term. To *officially* begin it, I should say. Already, your probation is off to an... unusual start." He leaned back in his chair. "Report, Obi-Wan, about Telos."

Obi-Wan lifted his head. Telos? He hadn't expected this. Qui-Gon had given them his report only yesterday. What could the Council hope to learn from him? He gave a mental shrug. 'We are not to know. We are to do,' he recited to himself.

Obediently, Obi-Wan told the story -- of his and Qui-Gon's investigation, their imprisonment and narrow escape from execution, their discovery of Xanatos' plans, and their public exposure of his lies and deception. And finally, of their fateful confrontation with Qui-Gon's former apprentice.

His story wound to its conclusion, and he knelt there quietly, awaiting the Council's response.

Yoda spoke first. "Tell us, young Obi-Wan. Why chose you to go with Qui-Gon?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "I... I had to, Master."

Yoda raised his eyebrows and his expressive ears lifted. "*Had* to, you say? What mean you?"

"I.... He...." Obi-Wan's stomach clenched. He felt tongue tied. What did they want him to say? What did they want to hear?

Mace Windu spoke. "Did you feel that Qui-Gon needed your help, Obi-Wan?"

"...No. But I thought...."

"You thought you could use the opportunity to prove yourself to him?"

"No, Master Windu!"

"Did you consider that your presence might be unwelcome to him? Or a burden to him?"

Obi-Wan looked startled. "No, sir. I didn't think.... I mean, I felt...."

"Hmm. 'Feel, don't think.' Sound like Qui-Gon you do," murmured Yoda.

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke for the first time. "Obi-Wan. Could it be that you were escaping the Temple when you chose to go to Telos? Could it be that you were fleeing the memory of Bruck Chun's death?"

Obi-Wan paled. "No," he said. "No, I was not running from... that. I was not." He was sure he spoke the truth, and yet... he could not deny that he had felt relief at leaving the Temple that day.... Obi-Wan's hesitation was plainly written on his face, and he knew it.

Mace Windu nodded appraisingly. "So. Your actions were not carefully considered, and you remain unsure of your motives for following Qui-Gon." He frowned. "Another impulsive decision, rashly made and blindly followed."

Obi-Wan felt a flare of anger within, and he quickly swallowed it down. He would *not* lose his temper. Not here. Not now. 'An open mind and a willing heart,' he reminded himself. He had to speak, and Qui-Gon's words gave him the strength he needed.

"My Masters." Obi-Wan bowed his head with humility. "My decision to go to Telos was made quickly, yes. But there was no need for deliberation. I had to attend my Master. The Force willed it. And with no uncertainty, I knew the rightness of it. I belonged at my Master's side. And I was right to go."

Obi-Wan's simple conviction rang in his words. Honesty was all he could offer the Council. He had nothing else to give.

"Well spoken, Obi-Wan Kenobi," acknowledged Mace Windu, and Obi-Wan was amazed to hear faint approval in his voice. "But there is one mistake in your speech. Qui-Gon Jinn is not your master. You are not a padawan. This is as you chose it to be."

Obi-Wan flushed with shame, but he calmly raised his eyes to Master Windu's. In his mind, he heard Qui-Gon's pledge to him on Telos: 'You are my Padawan, Obi-Wan. I do not need the Council to tell me so.' Obi-Wan knew the truth in his heart, even if the Council didn't see it -- yet.

He held Mace Windu's stern gaze without flinching. "As you say, Master," he said evenly.

The remainder of the meeting was spent outlining the terms of Obi-Wan's probation. He was not allowed to leave Temple grounds, and he had a full schedule of discussion and meditation sessions with various Council members, in addition to his standard coursework.

With some dismay, Obi-Wan had learned that Master Windu was the Councilor in charge of his probation. He was a little concerned about that. He had always felt that Master Windu disapproved of him, even before his impulsive decision to leave the Jedi and remain on Melida/Daan. Granted, as an initiate Obi-Wan had had a few too many scrapes with other students. It had been a failing of his, he knew. A quick temper when challenged... and a fear of not being chosen as a padawan, which manifested itself in a desire to fiercely defend himself and his abilities. It was ironic that his fear of failure had so often resulted in behavior that seemed to confirm him as unworthy to become a Jedi Knight.

Obi-Wan lifted his chin as he walked down the corridor. Well, he *had* been chosen as an apprentice... eventually. He *was* Qui-Gon's padawan, and he *would* become a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan knew he had a lot to prove -- not only to the Council but also to himself... and to Qui-Gon. And he *would* prove it. He would work hard during probation, would open himself to the lessons of the Masters, and grow wiser and stronger as a result.

That was his mission now. And he swore he would fulfill his mission in an exemplary manner, as befitted the Jedi he was.

Obi-Wan's fervent determination settled deeply into him, but as he approached his destination, his heart quickened with anticipation. If his guess was correct, he was about to see Bant. He was so anxious to talk to his friend, to tell her about Telos and about his Council meeting.

But mostly, he ached to share with her the news that he and Qui-Gon had reunited. Obi-Wan treasured that knowledge within himself, reverently, and he had spoken of it to no one yet. He wanted Bant to be the first to know.

Obi-Wan paused outside the door and took a deep breath, gathering his resolve. Then he pushed through the door with a determined smile, striding purposefully across the grass toward the pond. He felt certain this was where he was meant to find Bant.

Even if this location made him distinctly uneasy.

"Returning to the scene of the crime?"

The quiet words stopped him in his tracks. Obi-Wan turned slowly to see Aalto Ai'dain, one of Bruck Chun's best friends, standing behind him. Obi-Wan noticed how loud the rumble of the waterfall suddenly seemed.

"I wouldn't think you'd have the nerve to show up here again," Aalto said softly. His red-rimmed eyes were narrowed and threatening, and Obi-Wan could feel the Force whispering a warning. Had Aalto been crying?

The potential for danger here was clear, and Obi-Wan kept his voice calm. "Hello, Aalto. I'm looking for Bant. Have you seen her?"

Aalto ignored the question. "So how's probation treating you, Kenobi? What punishment does the Council have for murderers, anyway? Kitchen duty? Scrubbing the 'freshers? Or are you writing 'I will not kill other Jedi' over and over?"

Obi-Wan stood very still, but he could hear his breath become shallow and ragged in his ears. "I am not responsible for Bruck's death," he said clearly and quietly. He had chanted those words so often in his own mind that it seemed strange to hear them aloud.

"Not responsible," sneered Aalto with contempt. "What happened, Oafy-Wan? Did you accidentally trip him?"

Obi-Wan bit back a surge of anger at the petty taunt. "Bruck fell," he recited carefully. "I tried to save him."

"Aww, you tried to save him." Aalto's voice began to rise dangerously. "When, exactly? After you chased him down and fought with him? After you *shoved* him off the *falls*?"

"No, Aalto," Obi-Wan quietly seethed. "It was after he tried to steal the treasury. And right *before* he tried to murder Bant."

Aalto growled and took a sudden wide swing at him. Obi-Wan ducked it easily before realizing it was what Aalto had planned for. The hard fist pounded into his chest with a Force-enhanced blow, and Obi-Wan crashed to his knees, breathless and gasping. Doubled over and half-blind with pain, he sensed too late Aalto's vicious kick to the ribs. The heavy boot connected solidly, and what little air Obi-Wan had left was forced from him, leaving his lungs agonized and starving. His body convulsed, demanding that he inhale, but the vice-like pain in his chest and ribs denied him. Hazy blackness began to shroud his vision.

Aalto sprang toward him with a furious cry, and Obi-Wan raised a hand in desperation, giving a violent, uncontrolled Force-push that sent the other boy flying.

With a loud thud of impact and a dull crack of bone against rock, Aalto landed meters away, near the edge of the pond. It was the exact spot where Bruck had died, and Obi-Wan would've cursed in shock if he'd been able to. He closed his eyes against the haunting sight and rolled up onto his knees, his shoulders hitching with the effort to take in breath.

He heard a step behind him and jerked into a defensive posture with a sharp hiss of pain. When he saw Bant approaching, he nearly fell over in relief.

Bant's huge eyes were full of alarm as she rushed toward him. Obi-Wan lifted his arm in a vague gesture toward Aalto. "Go," he choked out at her. "See... him!" Bant glanced over at Aalto, who lay unmoving in the mist from the waterfall. "Oh, Obi-Wan!" she whispered as she knelt beside her friend. "What happened?"

"Go!" insisted Obi-Wan, nearly inaudibly. "He... okay? Tell me!" Bant understood then. She touched Obi-Wan's cheek, then sprinted over to Aalto, who was moaning now.

Obi-Wan clenched his fists and pressed them to his eyes. He felt an electric pulse of fear course through him, making breathing even more difficult. *What did I do? What did I do what did I do what did I do....* Force! Twenty minutes ago he had left a probation hearing, determined to follow the rules, to be the perfect padawan, to prove his worth. And now this! *Please let him be all right. Please! Gods, when the Masters learn....* He could feel the stirring of panic within him and he fought to push it away.

Suddenly Bant was beside him again, wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her, still gasping, eyes still closed, waiting for her words but terrified to hear what she had to say.

"Obi-Wan," she murmured. "He's all right. He hit his head. He was out for a minute, but he'll be fine. Obi-Wan, you're hurt. You're really hurt. Can you tell me what happened?" Obi-Wan shook his head slightly; he couldn't breathe much less speak.

He heard Aalto's voice then, hissing at him. "Shut up, Kenobi!" Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Aalto crouching unsteadily in front of him, a hand pressed to his bloody temple. "Shut up!" he warned again, and Obi-Wan realized the boy was just as afraid as he was. "No one needs to know about this. *Say* *nothing*!" Obi-Wan stared mutely at Aalto, his glazed eyes widening as he struggled for another shallow, panting breath. He felt an irrational urge to laugh; the repeated warnings to keep quiet were so ridiculous considering his current condition. "Obi-Wan, *no one needs to know*!" Aalto grated at him.

"Plotting secrecy, boys?" At the sound of the familiar, stern voice, Obi-Wan collapsed against Bant in despair.

Mace Windu reached for his comlink. "Send healers to the Level Twelve waterfall immediately."

As Bant tightened her arms around him, Obi-Wan lost hope, and then consciousness.

Part Two

...Voices. Hollow, shadowy voices, and if he... tried... he could hear their words....

"....lacerated lung tissue due to the fractured ribs. His respiratory distress is due to severe bleeding in the thoracic cavity. T'Vel has drained the blood from the chest, and is concentrating on repairing and re-expanding the lung. Obi-Wan should be fine, but his pressure is very low, and he'll need to remain quiet for several--"

"He's regaining consciousness; I feel it. Let me speak to him."

"Master Jinn, no. Please allow T'Vel to focus."

"I won't disturb T'Vel. But I *will* go to Obi-Wan. He's waking, he should know that I'm here."

"Qui-Gon, let the healers work. I need to talk to you."

"Mace! They said you brought him here. What happened? No one can tell me what happened...."

The echoing whispers began to fade away, and Obi-Wan was dimly grateful to slip back toward sleep.

Qui-Gon was here. And Obi-Wan did not want to hear the disappointment in his master's voice when he learned his pathetic padawan couldn't stay out of trouble for a single, brief morning. He could not bear to hear it. Obi-Wan let himself drift away.

Qui-Gon preceded Mace Windu into the deserted examination room he'd been led to, then he wheeled around and faced his colleague. "Answer me, Mace. How did this happen to Obi-Wan?"

"I don't have an answer for you, Qui-Gon. Yet. All I know is that he and Aalto Ai'dain fought. Aalto is being examined and treated as we speak, and I'll know more once I've talked with him." Mace's features darkened with distaste. "Your former padawan has a knack for finding trouble, it seems. It took him less than an hour to leave the Council chambers, get into a brawl and wind up in the healers' wing. It must be a record of some kind."

"Mace, if you're trying to be amusing --"

"I assure you I don't find this to be at all humorous, Qui-Gon. Any doubts I had about Obi-Wan's suitability for apprenticeship have only been strengthened in the last hour. I can see why you've been so reluctant to take him back."

Qui-Gon stared; Mace's words stopped him cold for a moment, as he realized how his caution and deliberation on that issue had been perceived. But he found his voice and spoke firmly and clearly. "Mace. I *have* accepted Obi-Wan back. Before we left Telos. He *is* my padawan."

It was Mace's turn to stare. "It is not your place to do such a thing, Qui-Gon, and you know it. Obi-Wan is on probation. I am in *charge* of his probation, and his status will be determined by me and by the Jedi High Council. *We* will decide if and when he is accepted back. And in the event he is restored to the Order, *we* will decide the terms of his apprenticeship. And that includes whether or not he is returned to you."

Qui-Gon was deadly calm and still. "You," he said quietly, "would give Obi-Wan to another to train? Explain."

Mace lifted an eyebrow and spread wide his hands. "There is no need to explain, Qui-Gon, is there? You should know all the logical, and *compelling* may I add, reasons why we must consider that course of action. But I shall list them for you if you like."

Anger began to simmer within Qui-Gon at Mace's deliberately casual tone of voice, but he released it with the ease of a Master. He determined that he would hold his temper and hold his tongue. For the moment.

Mace squarely met Qui-Gon's icy blue eyes, and began his speech. "After years of notorious reluctance to ever take another apprentice, and after adamantly refusing to train Obi-Wan due to his recklessness and anger, you eventually are persuaded to take him on. Then after barely one month of service to you, Obi-Wan resigns his place as your padawan learner and leaves the Jedi Order. This speaks poorly of the connection, the commitment, engendered between you, don't you think?"

Qui-Gon lifted his chin, and Mace, who knew him well, silenced the inevitable protest with a raised hand. "That was a rhetorical question," he said. "Allow me to continue. Candidly. You have a history, Qui-Gon. Of defiance of the dictates of the Council and of questionable adherence to the Code. Obi-Wan is headstrong, and, in my opinion, clearly undisciplined. It may very well be that you are *not* the best master for this boy."

Silence. Broken only by Qui-Gon's audible, accelerated breathing.

"And there is another thing," Mace continued flatly. "Xanatos."

Qui-Gon blinked, and his eyes stayed closed for a second or two.

"See?" said Mace. "You hear his name and react with pain. You, my friend, have not fully recovered from the betrayal and turning of your former apprentice. And Obi-Wan has betrayed you as well. You may think you are prepared to forgive him, but if you are wrong it spells disaster for Obi-Wan's training, and disaster for you as well. You *know* that is true."

"So I'm on probation as well, is that it?" Qui-Gon's face was expressionless. He spoke slowly, deliberately. "Let me tell you what I *know*, my *friend*. Obi-Wan Kenobi is my padawan learner. And he will *remain* my padawan learner until he is raised to Knighthood."

Mace answered in equally measured tones. "*Not* if it isn't the will of the Council."

Qui-Gon smiled coldly. "It is the will of the Force, Master Windu. That should be good enough. Even for you." With that, Qui-Gon brushed past the Councilor and left the room.

When Obi-Wan awoke, the room was silent except for the quiet, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside his bed. The soft glow of the machine was the only light in the tiny room, and by that light he saw a familiar silhouette sitting next to him.

"Hello, Bant," he murmured.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," she whispered back. "How do you feel?"

"Fantastic," he said softly, and Bant gave the gentle, rasping laugh of her species.

"*Seriously*," she said.

"Fine. Hurts... to breathe."

She nodded, frowning with concern. "Shall I get the healers?"

"No, please. Just... you." Obi-Wan paused to take a labored breath. "I was... looking for you, Bant. I... didn't find you in time."

"I know. I'm so sorry, Obi. I was looking for you, too. I knew where to find you for some reason, but... I guess I was too late." She stroked his arm soothingly, and he sighed with sadness.

"I wanted... to tell you something," he confided. "I wanted to tell you...." His voice thickened, and his words were choked away.

"...Obi..."

With focused effort, he shared the news that was so important to him. "I wanted to tell you... Qui-Gon took me back. On Telos. He said... I'm his padawan again."

"That's wonderful, Obi-Wan." Bant brushed his pale, cool forehead softly, trying to ease away the tension there. It didn't work.

"But that was before," he whispered. "Before this."

Bant smiled down encouragingly at him. She had no idea what the immediate future held for her friend, but she could reassure him in one thing. "Qui-Gon cares for you very much, Obi-Wan. He was here, just a little while ago. He asked me to stay with you because Master Yoda wanted to talk to him. He'll be back soon. He said he would."

"Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan swallowed carefully. "Master Yoda?" First Master Windu, now Master Yoda... talking to Qui-Gon... about him. He sighed with resignation, a feeble sound that lapsed into a weak, pain-filled cough, and Bant patted his hand as he recovered.

He managed to catch his breath, then he lightly changed the subject. "Can't believe the healers let you stay. That's... nice of them."

She laughed softly. "*Nice* had nothing to do with it, Obi-Wan. Master Jinn made them. I think they're scared of him."

Obi-Wan smiled wistfully. He wanted so badly to see his master. If, indeed, Qui-Gon still *was* his master. Obi-Wan was too afraid to hope for that.

They sat quietly for a moment, then Obi-Wan broke the silence. "Bant? How's Aalto?"

"I'm not sure. Fine, I think. He hit his head on a rock, Obi-Wan. I'm more concerned about the rock. I think I'll go visit it later."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "Don't... ow. Don't make me want to laugh."

"Sorry," Bant giggled.

Obi-Wan's expression turned solemn. "I Force-pushed him, Bant. I've never done that to a person before. It's just so... wrong."

"You were defending yourself, Obi-Wan."

"I know, but... do you know what? I think... I think Aalto had been crying." Obi-Wan's brow furrowed with concentration as he remembered. "I think... he was at the waterfall thinking about Bruck, and... then I walked in, and he... lost control. Bant, it made me realize something." He inhaled, a shallow rasping breath, and his next words flowed out on its meager strength. "Bruck was a bully, and I never liked him... but he was young, he had a life and a future, he had friends and they miss him and... I know what it's like to... to lose...." Obi-Wan suddenly shook off Bant's warm hand and wiped at his eyes. "Oh Force, now *I'm* crying," he mumbled, embarrassed. "Gods. Ignore me, Bant."

"It's okay, Obi-Wan. It's okay, you can cry..."

"Don't! Just... don't, please. Don't be nice to me. Or I'll start to sob, and it'll really hurt." He tried to smile at her, but his mouth was trembling.

Bant leaned over and laid her head on the pillow next to his. She listened to the hitch in his difficult breathing, the convulsive swallowing as he struggled to regain composure.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and spoke, very calmly. "I'm tired, so I think I'll sleep now. Thanks, Bant. You... you go visit that rock now, all right?" His empty humor earned an indulgent smile from his friend.

"Sleep well, Obi," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I'll see you soon." A slight dampness glistened near his eye, and Bant followed the short trail across his temple with her fingers. She brushed away the tear that sparkled in his hair, then turned and left the room.

Bant took a chair in the hallway outside. Master Jinn had asked her to stay with Obi-Wan until he returned, and that's what she intended to do.

Qui-Gon paced irritably in Yoda's quarters, circumnavigating a tiny table that he would have enjoyed kicking in frustration. Abruptly, he realized he was behaving like a caged animal, and he stopped himself short.

Yoda patiently observed him with half-lidded eyes. "Speak now you would, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon grunted. "You brought me here, Master. Perhaps you'll tell me why, so I can return to my padawan."

"Ah." Yoda's eyes closed briefly. "Answered my question you have."

Qui-Gon frowned. "Then may I go? ...Master," he added belatedly.

"Hmm. Unpleasant you are, Qui-Gon," Yoda said mildly. "Spoke you with Master Windu, I know. His words, upset you did they?"

Qui-Gon managed not to scowl, but he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. "*Master Windu*," he said, "is being unreasonable."

"How so?"

Qui-Gon faced Yoda, stern and dignified. "He is stubborn," he began, folding his arms into his sleeves. "He is blind. He is *purposefully* blinding himself to Obi-Wan's goodness and worth. He is judging the boy harshly and is endangering his future by ignoring an essential truth."

"Truth, you say!" Yoda lifted his ears in exaggerated surprise. "And what truth is this, Qui-Gon?"

"That Obi-Wan Kenobi is destined to become a Jedi Knight. And that I am meant to serve as his master on that journey."

Qui-Gon glowered in irritation as the little Jedi Master began to cackle with obvious delight. Yoda's shoulders shook, and he tapped his stick against the floor with undisguised amusement. Eventually, he recovered himself enough to gasp out, "Mace Windu -- a fool you think him, hmm? And blind to the will of the Force?"

Qui-Gon glared suspiciously at Yoda, then nodded slowly. "Yes. He is being stubborn, and is refusing to acknowledge that Obi-Wan and I.... what?! What in the name of the Force do you find so funny about this!"

"Listen!" huffed Yoda with glee, "To yourself you should listen, Qui-Gon! *Harsh.* *Stubborn.* *Foolish.* *Blind!* Remind you of someone these words should, and not of Mace Windu, I think!" His laughter began to subside as he watched Qui-Gon's expression transform from annoyance... to understanding... to shame.

Qui-Gon opened his mouth as if to speak, then in one graceful movement he knelt before his master and humbly bowed his head.

Yoda chuckled and laid an affectionate claw on Qui-Gon's head in a gesture that seemed much like a blessing. "Bow before the wisdom of your old master, you do, hmm?" He patted Qui-Gon's hair fondly. "Look at me, young one."

Qui-Gon obediently lifted his head.

"Much time it took you to recognize Obi-Wan as your padawan. Convinced you now are, that his destiny lies alongside yours?"

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. "I am, my Master."

Yoda's features resolved into a picture of placid contentment, and he met Qui-Gon's eyes serenely for a moment. Then suddenly he poked a pointed finger sharply into Qui-Gon's chest. "*Told* you I did!"

Qui-Gon winced and bit back a rueful smile. He had known someday Yoda would hit him with this. "Yes, my Master," he conceded graciously. "Told me you did."

"Ha!" said Yoda, and he gave Qui-Gon's forehead a gentle shove. "Sit." he commanded.

Qui-Gon sat on the floor and leaned against Yoda's chair. The position was comforting and familiar, a ritual of apprenticeship long past, and he felt himself relax. Half-heartedly, Qui-Gon chided himself as too old to find comfort in physical reminders of childhood. But Yoda's hand on his shoulder seemed to radiate peace and warmth, and Qui-Gon was too wise not to open himself to that.

"Your padawan, well he did before the Council this morning."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Master. I've not had a chance to speak with Obi-Wan. And Mace was less than encouraging."

"Cautious, Mace Windu is. And for good reason. He seeks to protect the Order. To protect Obi-Wan. And, Qui-Gon, to protect you."

"Hmph. Admirable. But I do not need Mace Windu to protect me from my thirteen-year-old padawan."

"Not from the *boy*, Qui-Gon. You from *yourself* he would protect." He rapped Qui-Gon's head with a small but powerful fist. "Thick you are."

"That's undisputable," laughed Qui-Gon softly. He had learned long ago that any carefully guarded dignity he might possess must sometimes be surrendered in the presence of this particular Jedi. "Nevertheless, Master, I find I resent Mace's 'concern' on my behalf."

"Cares for you he does."

"We *were* close once," acknowledged Qui-Gon. "Good friends. But things have changed between us since he joined the Council, Master. He is a different man. Obstinate. Rigid. Officious. We rarely see eye to eye now."

"A different man you are as well, my Padawan," Yoda pointed out. "Disagree you may. Debate you may. But honor each other you should. And respect each other you WILL." Yoda punctuated his speech with a loud crack of his stick on the stone floor, and Qui-Gon actually jumped.

Chastened, Qui-Gon could only nod his head, and say, "Yes, Master." Inwardly, he determined that he *would* take the ancient one's words to heart. He would sincerely try.

Effortlessly reading his former padawan's thoughts, Yoda said quietly, "There is no try."

"Of course, my Master."

"Good. Now. Speak you will of Xanatos."

Qui-Gon shook his head wearily. "I have given my report, Mas-"

"Heard your report I did," interrupted Yoda. "Speak now your heart."

Qui-Gon took a breath, and resisted his natural urge to close himself on this issue. There was simply no point in hiding from Yoda. He thought for a moment about the man his former apprentice had become, of the evil he had done. And of the unspeakable demise he had chosen for himself.

"Xanatos hated me so much, Master," Qui-Gon said contemplatively. "His hatred filled him. It fueled him. Even his own death was chosen as a punishment for me. His final words were meant to wound me."

"What said he?"

Qui-Gon quietly recited the words, which were as fresh in his memory as the moment he first heard them. "*Your hate drove you, though you won't admit it. You destroyed me because you could not save me. I am your biggest failure. Live with that. And live with this.* Then he ended his life."

"So darkened he was," murmured Yoda. "Wound you, did he?"

Qui-Gon was at a loss. He closed his eyes, searching for truth. A calm, insistent voice within him said No. But a softer, more uncertain voice whispered Yes. And somehow, the whisper seemed unbearably loud.

"Allow him *not* the power he sought," warned Yoda. "Victory you must *not* grant. Deny him his last wish, Qui-Gon. Deny him your pain."

After a moment, Qui-Gon nodded.

"Meditate on this you must, my Padawan. Help you, I will."

"Thank you, Master."

"In your past, that one is." Yoda gently fingered the fall of hair where Qui-Gon's braid had hung so many years ago. "Your future is lying in the healer's wing. Waiting for you. Go to him now you shall."

"Yes, my Master. I will."

Part Three

He'd been kept from Obi-Wan long enough.

Qui-Gon's long stride and the air of determination he projected before himself helped carve an unobstructed path through the corridors. He stood now, hands on hips, waiting impatiently for a lift that would take him to his padawan.

"Qui-Gon!"

"Force help me," he muttered. He turned to see Tahl, unerringly making her way to him despite her blindness. At any other time, he would have been delighted to see her, but now she was yet another delay. "What?" he said brusquely.

The Jedi Knight's beautiful features twisted wryly as she approached, and she spoke with a voice to match. "Good afternoon, Tahl. A pleasure to see you, Tahl. How have you been, my dear friend."

"Forgive me," Qui-Gon said, more civilly. "I am thrilled beyond measure to see you. How did you find me?"

"By smell."

"How flattering."

Tahl laughed. "I'm serious," she said. "I've come to recognize your distinctive scent. It's quite pleasant, by the way, so no need to worry. Of course, your unmistakable aura of grim purpose and determination helped me, too. You're impossible to miss. Couldn't lose you if I tried."

"Try harder?" he suggested.

"My, but you're charming today. Here's your lift. I'll join you."

Thank the Force the lift was empty. Qui-Gon wanted no stops on the way to the healers' wing.

"So." Tahl linked her arm through Qui-Gon's and entered the lift with him. "Tell me about Telos." Visually it would have been imperceptible, but Tahl could easily sense her companion stiffen slightly.

Qui-Gon's voice was mild and detached. "I've spoken enough about Telos for one day, Tahl. We found Xanatos. He's dead. May I leave it at that for now?"

"Oh, Qui-Gon," she breathed. "I am sorry. Did you...? You didn't...."

"He took his own life, Tahl."

"I see." She tightened her grip on his arm and pressed her cheek to his shoulder for a moment. "I share your grief, my friend."

"Grief?" Qui-Gon was about to argue that "grief" was an inaccurate word, but he realized in an instant that his protest would be meaningless. He *did* grieve, for the brilliant boy he once had cherished, and for the dark shell of a man that boy became. So he simply said, "Thank you."

"And how is Obi-Wan?"

Qui-Gon gave a humorless laugh. "I don't know! It seems Fate has conspired to keep me from my padawan today."

"Your *padawan*? That's wonderful, Qui-Gon!"

Despite his worry, Qui-Gon smiled. "I think so, too," he said.

"I *knew* you would find your way back to each other. He belongs at your side." Tahl's sightless eyes sparkled, and her grin was clearly self-satisfied.

Qui-Gon knew what was coming.

Tahl poked him in the ribs, leaned up and smugly whispered, "Told you so."

He swatted her hand away. "Yes yes, I know. That's the second time I've heard that today."

"Ah. Talked with Yoda you have, hmm?" Her imitation was quite good, and she made Qui-Gon laugh. "So where is Obi-Wan?" she went on. "I'd like to see him. So to speak."

"I'm going to him now. He's with the healers, Tahl."

"The healers! Why? Is something wrong?"

"He fought with another student this morning and was injured. They say he'll be fine, but... I've been kept from him all afternoon, and I haven't seen him yet. I don't even know what happened."

"No wonder you're so edgy."

"I apologize for my rudeness earlier, my friend. I just need to see him *now*, and I didn't want to be delayed again."

"Don't worry about me, Qui-Gon. I can handle your moods. Come on, we're there. Let's go see your apprentice."

After an update from the healers and a warning to keep Obi-Wan quiet and not tax his strength, Qui-Gon and Tahl walked down the hall to the boy's room. Bant stood as they approached and bowed to the two elder Jedi.

"Thank you, Bant, for staying with him, " Qui-Gon said with a cordial clasp of her shoulder. "You are a good friend to Obi-Wan, and a help to me."

Bant glowed at the praise, and smiled up at him. "He'll be very happy to see you, Master Jinn," she said.

"How is he?"

"Tired. He's having some trouble breathing. And... he's been thinking about Bruck."

Bruck? Qui-Gon puzzled at that for a second, but Bant was continuing, shyly. "Um... Obi-Wan told me about Telos, Master Jinn. That you accepted him back as your padawan, I mean. I'm very glad for you both."

"As am I, Bant," Qui-Gon said kindly.

"I *knew* you belonged together," she said earnestly, emboldened by the master's easy warmth. "I always said you would find your way back to each other."

Qui-Gon sighed with mock weariness. "And my third 'I told you so' of the day is from Initiate Bant, is it?"

Tahl laughed out loud, but Bant was mortified, and her big eyes widened. The Knight sensed her distress and came to her rescue, draping an arm around the girl's shoulders. "That's right, Master Jinn," Tahl said smoothly. "We all knew what was best for you. We just had to wait for you to finally figure it out, didn't we, Bant."

"Uh... yes?" ventured Bant, who wasn't sure how to play along. Qui-Gon smiled reassuringly at the girl.

"Well!" said Tahl. "We should take pity on him. Come on, Bant. Let's leave the master with his apprentice, shall we?" Tahl winked in the general direction of her old friend, and led the girl away.

Qui-Gon sent a little wave of gratitude after her; he turned and opened the door.

Obi-Wan was drowsing when his master entered the room. Qui-Gon stood near the doorway for a moment and looked at his padawan.

The boy appeared as white as the bed linens, and even in this light sleep his breathing seemed labored and shallow. The cardiac monitor beeped quietly, and Qui-Gon listened to the slow rhythm.

He sighed with regret. What had Obi-Wan gotten himself into this time? It seemed ages ago -- and a moment ago -- since they sat together at breakfast. Obi-Wan had been thrumming with energy then, nervous about his probation and anxious to do well before the Council. Now here he lay, still and pale and silent.

Qui-Gon moved to the chair beside the bed and sat. Absently, he trailed a finger across Obi-Wan's cool hand as he studied the boy more closely. This child... he was a part of Qui-Gon now. When had that happened?

The still-damp lashes fluttered, then opened, and Obi-Wan looked at his master as if he'd known he would find him there. He gazed seriously at Qui-Gon. "I'm sorry," he said.

Qui-Gon nodded, accepting the apology for what it was. "Obi-Wan, what happened?" he asked softly.

"Went... to the waterfall. Thought I'd find Bant. But... Aalto found me."

Qui-Gon waited patiently as Obi-Wan drew a slow, ragged breath. "Aalto," he continued, "was Bruck's friend."

Ah. "I see," said Qui-Gon. And he did.

"He's... so angry. I tried... to explain." Obi-Wan's eyelids closed wearily. "We argued. Fought. ...Master, I... Force-pushed him."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured with gentle reproof.

"It was all I could do," he said sadly. "I hurt him. Master Windu... he found us." Obi-Wan dragged his eyes open. "He's... he's in charge of... me. Did you know that?"

"Yes, I've been told," answered Qui-Gon dryly.

"He... talk to you?" asked Obi-Wan listlessly. He already knew the answer.

"We spoke."

Obi-Wan nodded. He couldn't bring himself to ask for details. He felt so tired; it seemed beyond him suddenly to care about his probation, about Mace's opinion of him. But he did wonder something... he had to know....

"Master," he murmured, "Are you... my Master?"

Qui-Gon didn't hesitate. "Yes, Obi-Wan, I am." One large, warm hand moved to rest securely on top of the boy's head, the other clasped the cold fingers that curled limply on the blanket. "And you are my padawan. Things may be a bit more... complicated, now. But nothing has changed between us, Obi-Wan. I promise you that."

"...oh...," sighed Obi-Wan, and his eyes slid closed again.

Tension seemed to drain from Obi-Wan's body, but Qui-Gon noticed the rhythm of the heart monitor had gradually increased. "Padawan? Master Yoda told me you did well before the Council. He was pleased."

"...hmm...." Obi-Wan worked at swallowing. "...said... burden... to you...."

Qui-Gon frowned. "They said you were a burden to me?"

"...why... I... go... to you...." The weak voice died away.

Qui-Gon caught his breath and was very still. He released the small, cool hand he was holding, and pressed his palm lightly to the boy's chest. "Obi-Wan? How are you feeling?" he asked casually.

"Fine," was the whispered reply. Obi-Wan coughed suddenly, and his forehead creased with the pain of it. "...fine," he repeated, and coughed again. Startled, he stared up at his master and tried to speak. "I... I'm...."

"Shh. Calm," Qui-Gon directed. He looked down at his own hand, watched it rise and fall too rapidly with his padawan's quickened respiration. He felt his own heart begin pounding harder in his chest, nearly matching the accelerating rhythm of the cardiac monitor. The master leaned in closely, centering... he closed his eyes and focused carefully, searching....

Abruptly, he sat up, and with a swift surge of Force activated the alarm on the monitor.

Qui-Gon brushed the backs of his fingers along his apprentice's jaw. "Obi-Wan." As though the sound of his name triggered it, a sudden spasm of coughing gripped the boy. His eyes opened, then widened as pain and lack of oxygen panicked him. When the brief attack subsided, Obi-Wan was agitated, confused and afraid.

"The healers are coming, Padawan," assured Qui-Gon calmly. Obi-Wan slid his shaking hand over and laced it with Qui-Gon's, which was splayed comfortingly against his chest. "Stay," whispered Obi-Wan urgently.

Qui-Gon gazed down in wonder at the stark contrast of their linked hands -- at the boy's slender, trembling fingers, so shockingly white against his own tan, broad hand.

T'Vel entered then, and Qui-Gon turned to face him. "He's worsened," he said tersely. "He's been coughing. Pressure's very low. He's bleeding badly."

T'Vel nodded curtly. "Hemothorax. Thank you, Qui-Gon. Leave us, please." He nudged the master aside, and Qui-Gon's heart ached as he tried to untangle his fingers from Obi-Wan's tightening grip.

His apprentice said "No," but Qui-Gon steadily met his pleading eyes, and gently pulled his hand away. "It's all right, Obi-Wan. Be strong. Be well. I'm with you here." He brushed his thumb against the boy's temple, and backed away as two more healers stepped up to the bed. He made himself turn and leave the room.

Tahl was sitting in the waiting room, and she held out her hand to Qui-Gon as he entered. He took it wordlessly and sank into the chair beside her. "He's worse," he said simply.

Tahl squeezed his hand and said nothing.

Unexpectedly, Qui-Gon laughed. "I'm so worried about him!" he said. "Tahl. He's mine. He's my padawan. He has so much to learn. I have so much to teach him. And much to learn from him." Awed, he shook his head. "I need him, Tahl. When did that happen?"

Touched by this uncharacteristic openness from Qui-Gon, and hoping the mood would last, Tahl carefully drew his hand up and pressed her cheek to it. "The will of the Force, Qui-Gon," she said lightly.

"The will of the Force," he repeated quietly. He leaned his head back against the wall. "I think... I promised myself I'd never feel this again. Never allow myself to need someone. But I do. And now I find... not for the wealth of all the stars would I change that." Qui-Gon turned to Tahl. "I have a request," he began.

Mace Windu strode in. "Qui-Gon," he nodded. "Tahl."

"Mace," they replied in unison.

"I've spoken with Aalto, Qui-Gon," the Councilor stated. "And I've come to talk to Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon stood. "No," he said evenly.

"No?"

"The healers are with him right now," explained Tahl. She tugged on Qui-Gon's hand. "Sit down."

Qui-Gon remained standing. "Did you tell that child he was a burden to me?" he demanded.

Mace looked confused, and Qui-Gon continued adamantly. "I want you to stay away from him, Mace. You may *not* interrogate him now."

"I don't require your consent, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon took a slow step forward, and Tahl pulled firmly on his hand again. "Sit down," she warned in a low voice.

With his eyes trained warily on the other master, Qui-Gon recalled his promise to Yoda. He took a deep breath. "Mace. I am asking you. Don't go to Obi-Wan. The healers would never allow it. He's... he's not doing well. Please."

Mace's stern features softened with concern. "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. I didn't realize.... Of course, I will wait to see him."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said stiffly, but relief was clearly evident on his face.

"Sit down, the both of you," Tahl ordered, and the masters found themselves obeying.

"You should know," Mace said as he folded his arms into his sleeves, "that Aalto admitted to starting the fight."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows, and Mace added, "Oh, it was not an altruistic confession by any means. His resentment of Obi-Wan is clear. But I think Aalto was frightened by his own anger and loss of control. It was a relief to him to talk about it. I've asked one of his instructors to work with him, and she's agreed. Aalto seems to respect Master Sedjik. He's *intimidated* by her at any rate, and that may not be a bad thing. Hmm. I was anxious for Obi-Wan's side of the story."

Qui-Gon looked thoughtful. "Obi-Wan says Aalto is grieving. He blames Obi-Wan for Bruck Chun's death."

"Yes, it appears so," Mace agreed softly. "The child has much to learn. And some healing to do." He glanced at the chrono on the wall, and stood. "Duty calls. I'm running behind." He frowned slightly. "This day has not gone according to schedule."

"No, I don't suppose it has." Qui-Gon's voice was wry. "I know how that annoys you."

Mace merely smiled. "You know me so well," he noted mildly. "And I know you, too." He sighed. "Ahh, Tahl. I could talk myself hoarse reminding him that Obi-Wan is not officially his learner, and it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference, would it?"

"Well, I'd venture to say yours is the minority opinion on that subject, Mace," answered Tahl pleasantly.

"Perhaps. But the burden of proof still rests with my friend here. And with young Kenobi. Still...." He pressed a strong hand to Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I wish only the best for Obi-Wan. And for you. The Force is with him, Qui-Gon. He will be well."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I know. Thank you, Mace."

The Councilor departed, and Tahl muttered, "Masters. You two make me tired sometimes." She straightened. "Now. What can I do for you?"

"Hmm?"

"Your request," Tahl reminded.

"Oh, yes," murmured Qui-Gon. He turned fully toward her and took her hands in his. "Meditate with me?"

Hours later, Qui-Gon returned to his quarters. He still felt fairly calm and centered as a result of his meditations with Tahl. And he was very relieved that he'd been able, from a distance, to lend support to his padawan as he had hoped to do.

Touching Obi-Wan's troubled mind during his treatment had initially been difficult and disturbing. He'd been thankful to have Tahl's anchoring presence beside him. In time, Obi-Wan had relaxed and responded as Qui-Gon guided him through his confusion, fear, and physical pain, and into a detached but keen awareness of his body and spirit.

Qui-Gon had realized the healers were aware of his presence within their patient, and he was grateful they allowed his intrusion, even welcomed his efforts. As Obi-Wan's agitation eased, the healers had worked to clear his chest and lungs of the blood that had nearly suffocated him. Obi-Wan had eventually stabilized, and he was now very deeply asleep.

It was Tahl who finally convinced Qui-Gon to take a break and return to his quarters for a meal, a shower, and some much needed solitude. But he stood here now in his tiny kitchen, hands on hips, staring at nothing. Hmm. Food? Maybe later.

He wandered into the common room and tried standing there for a while. Gods, it was quiet. Plants need watering, he thought absently. The old-fashioned wind-up chrono on the shelf was ticking away the seconds. He'd always liked that clock. When had it gotten so damn loud? It annoyed him.

He glanced toward his bedroom. Rest? No.

He sighed. Musingly, he walked over to his private study and pushed open the door. Shelves and shelves of books lined the walls, and he looked fondly at them like old friends. Data chips would take up much less space, he knew, but... there was no substitute for holding a real book in your hands. The heft of it, the sound of the pages, even the smell of it... these volumes had been his intimate companions for years. They were piled neatly on the floor, were even stacked up on the narrow sleep couch in the corner.

This had been Xanatos' room. Shortly after his apprentice's turning, Qui-Gon had personally removed every trace of the young man from his quarters, save a few small mementos he'd carefully packed away.

Qui-Gon had taken this room back by force, it seemed, had angrily refused to allow it to be haunted by the dark shadow of his former padawan. He'd reclaimed it, filled it with his beloved library, had made himself spend hours here, reading, studying, meditating. It had worked, eventually. Any darkness here, real or imagined, had been dispelled for Qui-Gon.

He loved this room. It was his sanctuary. And he would give it to Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon shed his cloak, and determinedly set himself to clearing away the accumulated clutter of years. He sat on the floor and gathered a stack of books to himself, cataloguing, sorting, then setting aside. He hummed to himself as he began his task. There was much to be done. He had surrounded himself here, with things comfortable, familiar, safe. There was barely enough space for himself, and certainly not space enough for an active, growing boy.

It was past time to make room.

Continued in second half: makingroom.part2.html