Anakin woke up gasping. He tried to quiet his breathing. He didn't want to disturb Obi-Wan again. He'd been at the temple for just over a week, but he'd had nightmares almost every night. Anakin grabbed fistfuls of his bed sheets, trying to steady himself.
His bedroom door stood open. Obi-Wan stepped into his room and turned the lights to their dimmest setting. Anakin bit his lip.
"Bad dreams again, youngling?" Obi-Wan asked gently, coming to sit on the edge of Anakin's bed.
"Sorry master, sir-," Anakin struggled for the correct title, still trembling.
"Don't apologize, Anakin. I was still awake." It was the third hour. Obi-Wan was more tired than he had believed possible. Every night had been sleepless and tense since Qui-Gon had died.
"It's always the same dream," Anakin whispered, almost to himself. Obi-Wan looked at him with sympathy. He was not a stranger to nightmares.
"What do you dream, Anakin?"
"It's- It's my mother. I don't remember what happens, really, but she's dying and I can't save her," Anakin's huge eyes filled with tears and Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder, "I have to watch," Anakin was crying in earnest now. Obi-Wan pulled Anakin close and was startled when Anakin clung to him. Obi-Wan's throat felt tight.
"You must be prepared to accept the worst when it comes, padawan." His throat constricted more painfully. "Some events are simply beyond our control and all that's left is to watch, to accept the burden." Anakin's crying slowed. Obi-Wan envied his ability to feel, to release. He stroked Anakin's hair and wondered what Qui-Gon would've said to them. His chest was a dull, hollow ache. "Death is the ultimate reality of life," he murmured. "Though we may live on in the Force, we all must face death eventually. Jedi risk death on every mission, theirs or others. We must learn that one death, one life is not," he cleared his throat painfully, "one being is not greater than another, regardless of personal attachment," it was a fundamental precept of the Code, but the words sounded empty to him. Qui-Gon had not been just another casualty. His training instructed it was so, but he couldn't believe it.
Anakin pulled away to look at Obi-Wan's face, perhaps sensing his distress.
"Do you miss master Qui-Gon?" He asked hesitantly.
"Every day," Obi-Wan breathed. And every hour and every moment of that day.
"I miss him too," Anakin whispered back. Obi-Wan wanted to scream, to lash out at the boy. You barely knew him. He gave me everything. He rigidly held himself in check, exhaled the feelings and replied tonelessly.
"I have accepted his death," a lie, "you must learn to accept the transience, the frailty of life to better understand how precious it truly is. We are the keepers of Life Anakin. It is our mission to protect it at the cost of all else. Qui-Gon died doing his duty," a long pause, "to us, to the people of Naboo, to the Living Force itself. We must be prepared to do the same. That is the life of a Jedi." The words sounded absurd to him. He was preparing a child for death, for war, to sacrifice his very life for the greater good. He wondered how this could possibly be right, but it was the Code. Though he was given to flouting it on occasion, it was still the Code he loved. The nagging thought persisted. Obi-Wan knew it required deeper thought, but he was too exhausted. He moved to stand.
"If you're all right now, I think I'll retire." Anakin caught his arm. Obi-Wan glanced down, surprised.
"Please don't go," Anakin whispered. Obi-Wan nodded slowly, settled down again. He leaned comfortably against the headboard. Anakin curled up next to him and Obi-Wan began stroking his hair again, half remembering a time when positions were reversed, when he was the padawan with nightmares and Qui-Gon had been his guiding light. He sighed staring longingly at his old walls, believing he would never drift off.
But when morning came, both master and padawan had crashed in a dreamless, sound sleep.