Prodigal

by Emrin Alexander (emrin_alexander@yahoo.com)

Archive: master_apprentice, and my homepage only

Category: Snippet, angst, POV, AU

Rating: G

Warnings: no sex, no happy endings, just, well, angst.

Summary: Xanatos returns, redeemed and Obi-Wan loses something very important to him.

Notes: I'm back working on the WIPs, but this small scene would dance its way to the back storage room in my skull, so here it is.

Feedback: yes, please, any comments welcome.

Obi knew with sudden, painful clarity exactly what Qui-Gon was going to say. He didn't need to use the remnant of their training bond to discern the words, nor even access the Force.

He just knew.

Had known every day since Xan's return to the Jedi, to the Light and to Qui-Gon.

Had watched and waited and hoped the transformation of his Master's former apprentice was another trick of Xanatos' to do. . .whatever. But someone far less Force sensitive than Obi-Wan could have looked at Xanatos and known, whatever his past held, this was a creature of the Light. Xan's face bore its broken circle and lines of suffering with a weary grace and goodness had been reignited in him - or, perhaps, ignited for the first time. It illuminated his being.

Sith, even I'm sympathetic to him. The thought was more amused than pained.

And if Obi-Wan was drawn to Xanatos, believed in his transformed nature, then how much more was Qui-Gon pulled to his former apprentice?

Obi-Wan had watched, held his tongue, waited, and known it was only a matter of time.

And now the moment had arrived.

Forewarned wasn't necessarily forearmed.

He straightened his shoulders, consciously bracing himself.

"I'm not. . "Qui-Gon stopped, took an uncharacteristic steadying breath, and then continued, "Obi-Wan, our bonding. . "

Perhaps more forearmed than he'd thought. The response flowed from him easily, as though rehearsed. "Is not going to happen."

"I. ..no, its not. I can't. Not now."

Obi nodded, caught a glimpse of himself in the floor to ceiling windows of Qui-Gon's living room and was vaguely pleased, somewhere on the rim of his emotions, to see how normal he looked. At some point he would take time and meditate on this uncanny ability to appear calm while bleeding from every pore.

"Xani."

Qui-Gon had the grace to flush. "As much as I love you, Obi-Wan, and I do love you, please never doubt that. Xan. . .he is. . ." he paused, holding up his hands palms out, searching for the right word and finally settled for "everything."

And what, Obi-Wan wondered, could be said to that? Don't love Xanatos? Love me, I'm here, I've always been here, don't leave me, don't do this.

Obi shook his head. This wasn't the way the story was supposed to go - he'd far prefer to think that rather than throwing him over, Qui- Gon would announce his undying devotion and relegate Xan to the status of past burden lifted.

But when had this particular story ever gone the way Obi-Wan wanted it to?

"In that case, I think that we have said all that needs to be said." His cloak was tossed over the back of the sofa. He picked it up, clutching it more tightly than he wanted to, and walked swiftly to the door.

"Obi-Wan, wait, please, wait! Can't you..."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, finger poised to press the door release. "No," he said gently, "I can't. Just," he stopped. Just what? Just don't throw us away for a man who hasn't given you a good thought in 20 years, just don't let me walk out of here?

Obi-Wan stabbed the release plate hard enough to make his finger joint protest sharply. "Just be happy, Qui."

He gathered himself and turned his head to smile, briefly, over his shoulder, and his heart cracked a little more.

Qui-Gon was a few paces away from him looking as distressed as Obi- Wan had ever seen him.

He sought for something else to say, something at least a bit profound, drew a blank, and gave up.

Sometimes the best way to leave is to simply walk out the door.