Mending
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-This is communication through the bond-
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Busting the door open, he surreptitiously filed his way into the room, his ready, but deactivated lightsaber was in his hands, and he could sense his master near. -Be careful padawan, these drug dealers are known for their…attitude…when it comes to being arrested.- Obi-wan heard his master say through their bond. Great, resistance, just what he needed. But he knew it would happen. He really didn't expect them to just nod their heads and accept arrest from a higher authority. As he made his way around the corner, Obi-wan could hear a man talking, "…ah, but you see T'ilanie, my son, it's all worth it."
-Ready?- Qui-gon asked him through the bond.
There was obvious hesitation on the apprentice's part, but the master could feel the complete trust he left with him. -Yes, master- the anxiety-filled answer came. The older Jedi could understand completely; it was nerve-wracking to know that the man could have anything with him, and was capable of everything. Obi-wan breathed in deeply, but it was somewhat shaky, and he kicked open the door, yelling commands at the man who sat at the table with a younger child and a few other men. Qui-gon was quick to follow his apprentice, but he could sense the broken heartedness of the younger man; there was a young child with the drug dealer.
The small apartment broke out into a shooting when the surprised men attempted to contest arrest. Obi-wan's deflected blows were awkward as his hands shook, which caused him to knock most of the bullets into the walls and ceiling. Qui-gon was already backing him up, redirecting the bullets back to the drug dealers, killing most of them in a matter of minutes.
In the midst of the pandemonium, the man (who was most likely the lead dealer) who Obi-wan had seen first when he broke in was out of a back door with a child in his hands. Thinking of only the child, Obi-wan ran after the man in a dead run; he was faster than the lead dealer with not only his force-enhanced dexterity, but the weight of the child that he did not have to carry. "Stop!" Obi-wan yelled after the man, knowing it would serve no purpose, but it was sort of a…reflex, you could say.
The man turned back, and all of Obi-wan's senses screamed at him to be ready for it, and pulled out a gun. He shot at the young Jedi, missing terribly, and the bullets ricocheted off the buildings near him. The shots were aimed with fear and they were unsystematic. -I'm coming- Obi-wan heard his master's voice, but his presence was still located a distance back.
-I know- Obi-wan answered.
Stopping for a brief second, Obi-wan pulled a stun gun from his belt, aimed at the man with a shaky hand that did not want to hit the child, and fired with astounding precision. The man crumpled to the concrete, dropping the kid. Obi-wan caught up just as the kid moved into a shadow. He ignored the kid for a moment and turned the man over with no effort to be gentle and pressed his boot on the dealer's chest. He leaned down against his knee and shook his head. "It is always better to accept arrest, especially when you don't know what you're up against."
The man snorted. "Up against? A teenager."
"A Jedi," Obi-wan corrected, searching for his master's signature quickly. The older Jedi was quite a distance away. The padawan didn't realize he had gone that far before stopping the dealer. He was weak; why did he waste so much time? Maybe he was just a teenager—a teenager trying to be what he could not. He set aside his hatred for himself for a moment, and moved for his lightsaber.
At the very last millisecond, the man kicked up, knocking the weapon out of the apprentice's hands. Surprised, Obi-wan acted as quickly as possible and dived for his weapon. The dealer moved well under the stun and lunged for the Jedi, knocking into him as he went for the weapon. Obi-wan hit the ground hard with his head and shoulder, but set aside the pain for a moment and reached for his weapon; he gathered energy from the force and focused on the weapon, knocking it from the reach of the other man and then brought it to his waiting hand and activated it with no hesitation.
He stood fully, noting the new ache in his ankle and knee, and warned the other back. "Don't make me use this."
The man came forward and kicked out for the teen's legs. Distracted, Obi-wan was caught off-guard and the man knocked the weapon from his hand, and took it into his own. He didn't know what to do with it, but he knew the Jedi couldn't harm him if he didn't have it. Obi-wan knew the man did not know how to use the lightsaber, so he lunged for the man, who fell backwards. They scuffled, with Obi-wan receiving a blow to the ribs and a punch to the face, and the lightsaber was activated. They didn't know who had hit the switch, but the blue blade cut through the dealer's stomach and came out through his back.
Obi-wan stood to see the child run to the man. He didn't stop him. His master came from behind him as he grabbed his weapon. The weapon that killed another living being—no matter how awful that being was. A Jedi was supposed to protect! Not kill. Obi-wan dropped his weapon, unable to touch it.
As the man drew his final, ragged breath, the child looked at Obi-wan. "Why? You killed my daddy you meanie!" Father? The words shouldn't have cut him so deeply, but Obi-wan felt them sting his heart.
There was no way to heal all of his wounds in a short period of time. The physical ones were nothing serious and had been healed quickly, leaving behind only a tired Obi-wan. But the emotional wounds ran deep. He had never killed someone before. Qui-gon tried to ease his apprentice by telling him that he couldn't walk away from death as a Jedi. "But I'm not worthy to be a Jedi. I'm a murderer who took a boy from his father." Obi-wan had replied.
"Jedi kill, Obi-wan, and there's not much that can stop it. No matter who you kill, you are going to take someone's father, mother, brother, sister, or child. Jedi have to kill in order to protect. You're a fine Jedi." Qui-gon had tried to reason with him.
"But I wasn't protecting when I killed."
"Where have you been?" Qui-gon was slightly taken aback by the statement. "You were there too, padawan, and that counts as a cause of protection. He was capable of killing you, and you came in to defend yourself. Protecting the innocent doesn't exclude Jedi, or self defense."
Obi-wan shook his head and walked out of the room, heading out to the balcony. Qui-gon allowed his apprentice the freedom and didn't follow. What the boy wanted to come to him, he would, and when he wanted to talk, he'd talk. But now he just wanted to be alone.
He had been out on the balcony for hours, refusing to come in for midday meal, and refusing to see his friends when they came by. Qui-gon hadn't told the friends what was wrong with Obi-wan, but told them he would be okay in a matter of time. The master went out to the balcony, not in hopes of talking—not in so many words, at least. "Do you want some tea, padawan?"
Obi-wan was leaning against the sturdy balustrade with his elbows and was looking around the city. The sun hit him just right and Qui-gon could see the already-desiccated tears on the apprentice's face. "No thanks," the words were soft; it was as if the padawan was trying to hide the cracking in his voice. All Obi-wan could think of was the little boy "You killed my daddy…" . Obi-wan sensed the concern in his master and turned around with a sigh. "It's all I can think about. For three days since it has happened, it is everything I think of. Little things will make me think of it—like something someone will say, or a sound I hear."
"And it will be that way until you cope, padawan. I know exactly what you mean."
Obi-wan shook his head. "You probably didn't feel this bad when you killed someone for the first time."
Qui-gon nodded. "I did, and it made me grieve for weeks because my master had gone on a split mission, and didn't know what had happened. When he came back, I was so far into my grieving that I couldn't do much. I was taken out of classes and put on mandatory vacation, along with my master. My friends had not been on a mission and couldn't help me because they didn't understand. But they did understand I was upset and did their best to try and help me."
Obi-wan didn't know what to say and just nodded silently.
"You have to understand that there was nothing you could have done, and, frankly, I believe it was an accident. He died when you were both fighting. You had the same probability of getting stabbed, but one of you hit the activation and he died. I, for one, don't think you even killed him."
"It was my fault that the lightsaber had even gotten into the fight."
"Maybe, but it isn't your fault that he died. A Jedi is supposed to keep his or her lightsaber with them at all times, and that's what you did, Obi-wan, exactly what you did. I do not see how it is your fault for following the rules." Qui-gon answered, his heart aching at the sight of his inconsolable apprentice.
"But that child had to see his father die—my fault or no."
"This couldn't have been stopped. People will see their family and friends die by the hands of a Jedi, but there is nothing we can do."
"It still hurts to think about."
"It will mend…in time. And when it does, you will be stronger in the Force. And next time you are forced to kill, it won't hurt so badly, I promise." Qui-gon's blue eyes locked with Obi-wan changing blue-green eyes.
"Thank you." Obi-wan let himself fall into his master's embrace.
A lesson was learned, no matter how painful. Mending happens, but it takes time and support. And when you mend, your life is returned to you.
