It was the muffled gasp that woke him up. Qui-Gon sat up straight in his bed, blinking into the darkness. He had expected to see an intruder or some other malicious intent but saw nothing of the sort in his room.
The Master frowned. He silently touched the edge of the Force, trying to figure out what woke him.
Another gasp registered in his head. Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon threw off the blankets and stood. He saw that it was still quite early; the moon barely moved across the sky since he last opened his eyes. Ignoring the popping noises in his knees, Qui-Gon moved out of his room and into the open apartment.
He didn't bother to turn on the soft lights- he knew exactly where to step. Even though Obi-Wan is an unusually clean boy for his age, the occasional forgotten boot or tunic was easily avoidable. When Qui-Gon was his age, he would purposely scatter out his clothes on the floor just to test if Dooku's sight was a good as everyone claimed. Unfortunately, to Qui-Gon's lack of amusement, it was.
The Jedi Master paused at his Padawan's door. Instead of knocking or letting himself in, he slowly sent in his will inside of the room. The Force quietly crept across the floor, before coming to the edge of Obi-Wan's bed.
The boy was sitting up, letting his feet to dangle over the side of his bed. He was bent over, his head in his hands. He was crying.
Automatically Qui-Gon felt his chest tighten. A crying child has that affect. But he knew better. He learned his lesson from Xanatos. How many times did he go into that boy's room and awaken him from a nightmare? How many times did he cradle him in his arms until his young apprentice fell asleep? Too many times. Qui-Gon could not baby Obi-Wan. He would not make the same mistake twice.
Still, what was the reason behind Obi-Wan's tears? Was it a nightmare? Was he in pain?
By the time the Master was asking himself these questions, the Force already brought him news that Obi-Wan stopped crying. The boy took in a shuddering breath and wiped at his eyes. "It was only a dream," Obi-Wan hissed to himself. "Don't be stupid."
Qui-Gon released a slow breath. So it was a nightmare. For a brief second he wondered what kind of nightmare and quickly pushed that thought away. He was getting too close.
Besides, it looked like the boy resolved it all on his own. Obi-Wan went to his private refresher, cleaned his face and climbed back into bed. He flipped over to his side, his eyes wide and not one bit sleepy.
Qui-Gon pulled back. He wanted to know what Obi-Wan dreamt of- what did he dream of that drove him to tears and what did he dream of that made him fearful to go back to sleep?
But these were lessons Obi-Wan was going have to learn on his own. Qui-Gon isn't always going to be there each time the boy has a nightmare. And it's best to learn that now.
Ignoring the guilt that settled in his heart, Qui-Gon shuffled back to his room.
Two hours later, Qui-Gon felt the same distress call coming from his Padawan. The boy was having another nightmare. But this time around, Qui-Gon did not bother getting up. Instead, he slammed up his mental shields, cutting off all signals. He knew it was cruel, but it was necessary.
I am his teacher, his mentor. I am not his father.