A/N: I got the idea when I saw a prompt someone on Tumblr received and well, lets just say inspiration struck! Please leave a review and read the Author's notes at the bottom, thank you!

That's not my baby

RATED T FOR SELF HARM

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THIS TYPE OF MATERIAL

Ben (née Obi-wan) Kenobi sat in his hut in the middle of the deserted and barren desert on Tatooine.

He was used to this lifestyle by now, after all it had been 2 years since the empire had clenched power, his days were filled with boredom and the only productive thing he did was make himself food. He hated it - it gave him too much time to think. He thought about the Republic and the Jedi and always was met with questions regarding his actions and stupidity on that fateful day that the Republic was diminished. Did he do the right thing in giving Luke and Leia away? Should he have made sure that Anakin was actually dead on Mustafar? These were just a brief glimpse into the life that he lived. It was a life where he was constantly questioning everything.

All the people he loved were dead, mostly because of him. Siri, Anakin, Satine. No. He couldn't think like this. He couldn't think of her.

But Satine. Ah, the lovely former Duchess of Mandalore. She was so loved and beautiful. She was radiant and smelled constantly of flowers. She was everything to him. His world, his soulmate and, metaphorically, his demise. It was true, her death killed him; not physically but mentally. He loved her so much, which was the main reason why her death was so hard for him.

Secretly, he spent days crying and sleepless nights standing on his balcony just staring at the two setting suns thinking, what could he have done? Could he have saved her?

Sobs wracked his body as he thought of that moment, the moment where his love's bright blue eyes closed for the last time, the moment when she took her last breath and the moment when her body fell limp in his arms. "I'm sorry!" He screamed, standing up from his seat and throwing a glass at the wall. He smiled when he heard the shrill sound of the glass smashing and picked up another, this time crushing it in his fist. Once again he heard the sound of the glass breaking, it was crumbling beneath his fingers and digging into his skin - but he didn't care. It felt good, the feeling of the sharp glass digging and cutting into his skin.

Obi-wan bent down and retrieved a glass shard from the floor and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Slowly, he traced his veins with the piece of glass. Then, in one quick movement, he dug the glass into his skin. At first he winced, but as he became accustomed to the pain he smiled - it felt good. The crimson blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the floor, it was pure satisfaction and he kept on doing it. Continually, he drag the shard of glass over his arm making deep cuts in his arm. They would most definitely leave scars behind. He didn't care, the scars would serve only as reminders. Reminders of what happens when he reminiscences the past.

Obi-wan dropped the glass shard to the ground, it landed with a loud smash and shattered into tiny pieces. Satisfied with the glass, he then faced the wall of his hut. He inhaled deeply before he punched the wall full-force with his fist. All he did was sigh. With all of his strength he punched the sandstone wall. His fingers were bleeding and his hand was littered with bruises. His knuckles were bleeding too, cut open with small but nasty gashes from the hard rock he had been hitting over and over. He collapsed to the floor, completely spent, and let the hot tears slide down his face. He then fell into a deep sleep, that was pervaded by nightmares.

Obi-wan woke to loud and incessant knocking on his door. He didn't usually answer the door, to anyone really. Another knock sounded and he sighed, picking himself up off the floor to go and answer it. "I'm coming!"

He sauntered over to the door and opened it. It was a person draped in a burgundy coloured cloak, their face was hidden and they appeared to also be holding a baby. "May I come in?" The mysterious person asked him. The voice was feminine and somewhat familiar. He wasn't going to let her in, but she had a baby and he certainly wasn't that cruel.

"Yes, of course." Obi-wan opened the door a little bit wider and let the woman in. "The living room is right down the hall and second door on the left." As she walked past him towards the living room, he spied a wisp of blond hair peeking out from under the hood of her cloak. So far, he had distinguished that this person was a blond female. Well at least he was making some progress, right?

Once the woman and her child were inside, he closed the door and joined them in the living room.

"So, do you need anything or will you be on your way?" Obi-wan said sharply. He was tired, he just wanted this person out of his house so he could sleep for all eternity. Besides, he only let her in because she had a child.

The woman scoffed under her hood. "There's the charm I distinctively remember."

"What in the devil do you mean?" Obi-wan asked, bewildered at how this woman seemed to affect him so.

Slowly, she finally pulled off her hood. Obi-wan gasped. It was her. Satine Kryze, the one and only.

"Satine, w-what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be-"

"Dead. Yes, well clearly I'm not am I." Her voice cut him off sharply. He was about to reply, but he was interrupted by the infant's shrill cries.

Satine reached down to get the baby's bottle from her bag and tried to balance the child on her knee at the same time, however she couldn't manage the two. "Obi, please hold her for me?"

Obi-wan was speechless, but he could see her struggling so he decided to hold the child whilst Satine got her bottle. "I-yes, okay."

Satine's thin lips curved up into a small smile as she handed the baby to Obi-wan. She then began rummaging in the bag to find her daughter's bottle.

Obi-wan cradled the child in his arms, it was the first time he had saw her. She had bright blue oval eyes, a cute little nose and thin coral lips just like her mother. Her hair was auburn, she was so beautiful. Again, just like her mother.

When Obi-wan held the child in his arms he felt something familiar, like a connection. Wait, that's it! This child was force sensitive. Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together. The auburn coloured hair and the force sensitivity...

Oh. No. It couldn't be.

This child was his.

A/N: Please leave a review below. The next chapter may be delayed by a couple weeks, as I will be taking part in '12 days of Swan Queen' so don't expect it to be up right away.