Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Splash.
Qui-Gon grimaced as he sat up. Like every other time he had tried to go to sleep, his captors had done some little thing that he would normally shrug off, but while in a prison cell made him sit up and strain his senses, praying that they weren't going to a) drag him off to torture him, or b) inform him that they had finally tired of whatever they were doing to his padawan and had decided to kill him.
Tap.
Looking around for the source of the dripping, Qui-Gon rubbed at the force inhibitor collar that they had place around his neck. Despite his lack of knowledge of whatever they were doing to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon hoped that they hadn't cut his fourteen year old apprentice from the force. Unless they were using some obscure force technique to torture him.
Tap.
Tap.
No matter how infuriating the dripping was, for the last four weeks, he had endured whatever they had done to him. It could not possibly be worse than whatever they were doing to Obi-Wan. The knowledge, of course, did not stop him from cursing the water with every breath he had.
Tap.
A noise in the corridor made him tense up, but he forced himself to relax. The guards would be bringing him food. He absolutely hated to stuff. Stale bread with murky water filled with questionable substances.
Tap.
He dragged himself to the corner of his dusty cell, waiting there for the guard to enter. They would kick him if he were anywhere else. He had briefly considered being defiant, but had dismissed the thought, not willing to risk making whatever situation Obi-Wan was in any worse.
Ta-
Bam!
Qui-Gon flinched as the door flew off its hinges and into the wall, inches away from his injured leg. Then he winced as the light flooded the room, voices clamoring together, before one voice rose above the din.
"Shut up! Mace! We found Qui-Gon!" the voice then swore as Qui-Gon tried to remember where he had heard it before. A hand touched his face, and he barely restrained himself from flinching at the unexpected contact. The hand then gripped his chin, lifting his deep blue eyes to striped green ones. Tahl.
Qui-Gon tried to speak, to remind them of Obi-Wan, but he started coughing, his dusty throat convulsing. "Hey, hey," Tahl said. "It's alright. Do you know where your wayward padawan is?"
Qui-Gon shook his head silently. How he wished he did. They had gotten off to a rocky start, but he had soon found Obi-Wan to be a magnificent padawan. He felt worry and panic crash down on him, and tried to stand, his injured leg screaming at him. He ignored it. His padawan needed him.
Qui-Gon growled in frustration as Tahl pushed him back down. Didn't she understand? Obi-Wan could be seriously hurt and she was stopping him. "Sit down! You can't help Obi-Wan in this state. Let the others find him."
He was about to snarl an angry comment about how Obi-Wan was his padawan, but he felt a sharp pressure against his neck. He glared at Tahl as he felt his head getting fuzzy, and his consciousness slipping away.
He could see Tahl's lips moving as he fell further into sleep. Sorry.
Even as he slept, Qui-Gon could feel a gaping emptiness inside of himself. He just wasn't sure whether the emptiness was lack of the force, or the bright presence that had been in his life for a year.
Qui-Gon gasped, waking up a little, as the collar was removed. The first thing he felt was fire. The force flooded his body, burning as it went, but Qui-Gon accepted it. It was much better than the second thing he felt.
Agony. Pure unfiltered agony laced with terror. Behind it was a desire to push those down, to ignore this unimaginable pain and fear, but when he, no Obi-Wan, tried to push it down, he couldn't. He just continued to feel.
This time Qui-Gon was grateful when they sedated him.
He woke up to screaming. Obi-Wan!
Qui-Gon tried to fling himself out of the medical bed, but got tangled up in the wires connected to various points on his body. He fought with the wires, only thinking that Obi-Wan needed him. A hand reached forward and helped him untangle himself, but when he tried to get to Obi-Wan, whoever it was stopped him. He turned and snarled at the person.
The person, Tahl, growled back, her striped eyes flashing dangerously. "You will sit down Qui-Gon Jinn, or so help me I will tie you down. Obi-Wan is being treated. He will live."
"But?" Qui-Gon asked.
"What makes you think there is anything else?" Tahl said a little too innocently.
"You said that he will live, not be fine." Qui-Gon didn't want to paly word games with Tahl, he wanted to see his padawan and make sure that he would be ok.
Tahl looked at the ceiling, wishing that she didn't have to be the bearer of bad news. "We don't actually understand what has happened to Obi-Wan. Well, mentally at any rate. Physically all we can tell is that he was experimented on during your imprisonment. They removed a part of his brain."
Qui-Gon felt rage lick its way through his veins, and took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Tahl seemed to understand, and left him alone with his anger.
6 months later
Qui-Gon opened his eyes to see a pair of chameleon eyes studying him. Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan, and the boy shifted his weight from one knee to the other, looking like an initiate caught with his hand in the sweets jar.
Qui-Gon stood from his meditation pose, and Obi-Wan followed. Silently they went to the kitchen, where Obi-Wan had made breakfast.
As they sat down Qui-Gon once again marveled at the control of the boy in front of him. From what they could tell, the experimentation that Obi-Wan had been subjected to had annihilated his ability to suppress and ignore his emotions. So Qui-Gon marveled as Obi-Wan worked around this by instead controlling them. Whenever he was scared, which happened much more often than Qui-Gon had originally thought, he would plow through and work despite the fear, not ignoring it, but accepting it, and moving on.
He wasn't saying that Obi-Wan hadn't changed, because he had. He had changed significantly, but in a way, he was still the same. He had proven that when he had ran into Bruck Chun. Chun had mocked him for something, and Qui-Gon, in the next hall over had felt Obi-Wan's anger, but Obi-Wan had simply walked away, the anger simmering below the surface, but his desire not to hurt anyone had won over.
"Padawan?"
"Yes, Master?"
There was another disturbing change. Before Obi-Wan had had a commanding voice. Now he spoke quietly, as if afraid of something.
Despite his worry at Obi-Wan's continued evidence of change, Qui-Gon pressed on. "I will be going to a council meeting later."
"About me." Another change. Obi-Wan had always been perceptive, but lately he had taken it to a new level.
Qui-Gon nodded grimly. "They suggested that I get a new apprentice."
Obi-Wan just smiled sadly. More changes. Before he would have gotten angry, or indignant. Now he simply accepted it. Qui-Gon wished that he would do anything else. Even get angry. Obi-Wan had always been emotional, leading to excellent control, but he had never simply accepted anything with out a fight. Qui-Gon had actually started to believe that Obi-Wan could be telepathic, which caused him to analyze other people's thoughts and emotions as well as his own, which led him to be more accepting of things.
"You didn't accept their proposition." A statement. He was certainly acting like a telepath.
Qui-Gon smiled. "Over my dead body. I barely came to my senses enough to accept you as my apprentice in the first place, I am not giving you up now."
Obi-Wan's smile brightened. "We come to far to split up now, Master. We both know that."
"I told you, Mace. Everybody told me to take an apprentice, and I know you and Yoda were scheming to make him specifically my apprentice, and now most of the council has changed their mind. Obi-Wan is hurt. He needs guidance, and I believe that he can surpass his... differences and become a Jedi knight. Already I can tell that he has become more perceptive, and he has learned more control by himself in the last six months than I have taught him in the last year. I will not let you prevent him from becoming one of the best knights we will ever have."
Qui-Gon took a deep breath and reigned in his emotions. It would not do for him to lose control now. Not when Obi-Wan's future was at stake.
"How do we know that his obvious mental instability won't affect his ability to cope in fighting conditions?" Mace asked.
"So far I have not seen any evidence that he will be unable to function in the middle of battle. And if so, I believe that we can work around it." Qui-Gon responded.
"You and your padawan frequently go on diplomatic missions. How do we know his condition won't affect his ability to negotiate?" Yarael Poof asked.
"It does affect his ability to negotiate. I have not won a single debate since he has left the Halls of Healing." Qui-Gon said proudly.
"How do we know-"
"Silence." Yoda's voice rang through the chamber. "Know, we do not, how young Obi-Wan has been affected. Matter it does not. A padawan Obi-Wan is, and a padawan he will remain. Unless complaints his master has?" Qui-Gon shook his head, hiding his grin in his beard. "There. Reason to cast out Obi-Wan there is not. A good padawan he is. Changed he has, but maybe a good thing it is, hmm?"
And with that, the council meeting ended.
Obi-Wan was terrified. Despite knowing that his master would never cast him out, nor Yoda, he could not speak for anyone else on the council. When he had run into Bruck Chun, the other boy had mocked him, saying that he would certainly be cast out now. No one wanted a defective padawan.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's voice came from the main room, filled with concern.
"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan replied, walking into the living area, head down, fists clenched.
"Well, I-. What's wrong?" Qui-Gon walked up to him and put a finger under his chin, lifting it up. "I am not going to send you away, if that is what you're scared of. I told the council to stuff it, and Master Yoda agreed with me."
Obi-Wan took a calming breath. In. Out. In. Out. He wasn't going to be sent away. Waves of relief crashed over him. He was a padawan. In. Out. In. Out. He suddenly found himself enfolded against a large chest, arms wrapped around him.
"I won't let them take you from me, padawan. I promise." And with those words, Obi-Wan found his worries wash away. He was Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan, and his master wasn't going to let him go. Not for something as simple as this. For now, that was enough to help him get through the next eleven years.