Author's Note: As mentioned in the summary, this story is going to be a re-write of What Might Have Been, by Helena of Trebond. She gave me her permission to take over the story, re-writing and hopefully completing it eventually. We discussed her original ideas for where the story would go, and I am going to stick with her basic premise while adding my own ideas to the concept. I hope readers of the original work enjoy this, and for anyone just discovering this, I hope you check out the original as well. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or concepts relating to the Star Wars universe, and I am making no profit from this work.

Qui-Gon woke with a groan, allowing the Force to swirl around him before slowly prying open his eyes. He was greeted by the harsh, bright lights of an infirmary, though he knew instinctively that he was not in the Halls of Healing at the Temple—he wasn't even on Coruscant, for that matter. He struggled to recall where he was and what had happened to him. Naboo, his memory whispered, aided by the Force, in the palace infirmary.

He sat up, and quickly lowered himself down again with a hiss as unanticipated pain shot through his abdomen. "Mister Qui-Gon!" he heard, and smiled tensely through the pain. That was Anakin, he remembered, the little boy he'd met on Tatooine not very long ago—Anakin, the Force hummed, the Chosen One.

"Hello, Anakin," he answered, his voice rasping through pain and disuse, "how are you?" The boy's aura churned around him with anxiety, and Qui-Gon frowned.

"I should be asking you that, Mister Qui-Gon," Anakin answered. "You were asleep for a long time—more than two days." The boy bit down on his lip, shifting from foot to foot. "We were worried about you."

"I wasn't asleep, Ani," he said, smiling reassuringly at the boy. "Not really. I was in something called a healing trance, taking care of my injuries." Anakin nodded.

"You mean the injuries you got from fighting that Sith guy," he said. Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow in silent inquiry. "I overheard Mister Obi-Wan telling Master Yoda about what happened, about the fight." At least Anakin had the grace to look contrite at his eavesdropping, Qui-Gon thought wryly. But the young boy's words had sparked a series of memories in him, and, being too weary to suppress them, he closed his eyes and allowed them to play out.

He had fallen to the Sith Zabrak and now lay still on the cold metal floor, eyes glazing over—a lightsaber hole ran straight through his abdomen. He saw his padawan behind the red wall of energy, saw him scream, but could not hear it. He saw only bits of the fight after Obi-Wan engaged the Sith; it was nothing like Obi-Wan's usual style of fighting. Instead of the smooth, graceful movements Obi-Wan had learned after a time, they were jerky and harsh.

Qui-Gon could sense his padawan's negative feelings—his anger at the Dark Force-user who had injured his master, his fear that Qui-Gon was going to die, and his frustration with himself for allowing it all to happen.

Let go of your negative feelings, Padawan, Qui-Gon murmured through their bond. You cannot win by pitting your Darkness against his; you must be calm. He felt Obi-Wan falter, and in that moment he fell into the hole that led to the reactor's core.

Qui-Gon wanted to curse at himself, but he lacked the energy. He had distracted his padawan from the task at hand, and in doing so gave his opponent the opportunity that he needed. But at least Obi-Wan was alright—somewhat, anyway. He was clinging to a light attached to the side of the hole several feet below them. Again the Sith took to pacing, running his lightsaber along the edge, sending sparks down at Obi-Wan. A few moments later Qui-Gon saw his padawan's lightsaber follow him down.

It took only a few seconds for Obi-Wan to gather his strength and use the Force to propel himself up and out of the hole. He summoned Qui-Gon's lightsaber to him and began to fight again. Though the Darkness was still within him, he had pushed it to the back of his mind, not having time to release it into the Force. Qui-Gon saw his apprentice sever the Sith's double-bladed lightsaber, giving him only one to work with.

After that, Obi-Wan made short work of him. Qui-Gon felt a rush of relief and pride as his padawan cut the Sith's body clean in half and send it tumbling down the hole to the core.

Obi-Wan rushed to his side, falling to his knees and pulling Qui-Gon's head into his lap. He could sense his apprentice's intention of healing him and murmured, "No, it's too late..." He had accepted already that he was going to die. He was calm, knowing that he would soon be one with the Force, and tried to share that calm with Obi-Wan—through the bond, he felt his padawan recoil at the feeling.

"No," Obi-Wan murmured aloud, sounding as though he were close to tears. "No-"

"Obi-Wan, promise... promise me you will train the boy," he said, voice hoarse. He was quiet for a moment, waiting for Obi-Wan to respond. He didn't. "He is the Chosen One... he will bring balance... train him."

"No," Obi-Wan replied forcefully, "I will not train him."

"Obi-Wan, please..." Qui-Gon could feel himself growing weaker, the Force gathering around him, whispering to him gently, pulling him away—Qui-Gon pulled away from it. He had to convince his padawan to train Anakin...

"No!" Obi-Wan said loudly, nearly shouting. Qui-Gon saw tears in his eyes. "I won't have to—you're not... you aren't going to die, Master."

Oh, Obi-Wan... he thought through the bond, I know this is hard for you...

"Train him for me," Qui-Gon said softly, "when I've gone." He closed his eyes and now allowed the Force to envelop him, beginning to fill him. He was going, soon. He felt himself being carried off, and then-

And then he was being pulled down again. What...? Had he the strength then, he would have groaned aloud in frustration. Obi-Wan was trying to heal him. He knew it wouldn't work—his injuries were too extensive, and his padawan had only limited connection to the Living Force... He waited for Obi-Wan to exhaust himself, and allow Qui-Gon his rest.

But it was working, he realised after a moment. He could feel the damage the Sith's lightsaber had done healing—the muscles were pulling themseves to gether, the bone healing itself until it became merely a normal break, rather than puncturing his lung, the skin healing above it all...

It was by no means fully healed, but he knew now that he would live. But at what cost? he asked himself, and slowly opened his eyes. He saw Obi-Wan slumped over him, his eyes closed and breathing ragged. His Force signature, usually so bright and vibrant, had dimmed to a mere shimmer around him.

He gave his energy to save me, Qui-Gon thought dizzily. Oh, Padawan mine, how foolish of you. Saving an old man like me...

Though he wanted to ensure that Obi-Wan would be alright, he did not have the energy. He surrendered himself to sleep.

When he opened his eyes, Anakin was no longer there, his spot in the chair next to the bed taken by Master Yoda.

"Awake, it is good to see you," said the small troll. "Died, you nearly did."

"I know," Qui-Gon answered ruefully. "Obi-Wan saved me. Where is he? Is he alright?"

"Fine, he is. Back to Coruscant, he has gone," answered Yoda. "Left he did, when told you would live." Qui-Gon's brow furrowed.

"He left without us?" Yoda nodded.

"Pleased with you, he did not seem. Happen, something did." Yoda frowned, humming to himself, his ears lowering. "A very dark presence, the Sith's was, in the Force. Unbalanced him, it may have." Qui-Gon felt a chill pass over him at the thought of the defeated Zabrak, and nodded. It was certainly enough to unbalance him, and Obi-Wan was younger and more sensitive to such things. It made sense.

"I will speak to him when we return," Qui-Gon assured the Master, and Yoda nodded.

"The boy, young Skywalker-"

"Allow me to train him, Master," Qui-Gon interrupted. Yoda continued on as if he had not spoken.

"Trained, he will be."

"Thank you, Master," Qui-Gon said, relief flowing through him. The boy's training would be much easier with the consent of the Council.

"My padawan, he will be." Qui-Gon's jaw slackened in shock, his eyes blinking rapidly at Yoda.

"Your padawan?"

"Hear me, you did," said Yoda, countenance serious but eyes sparkling with amusement.

"But-" Qui-Gon began to protest, falling silent as Yoda held up a small, green hand to stay him.

"Train him, I will," insisted Yoda. "Rest, you will need. And restrict your movement, this injury will, for some time." Qui-Gon was forced to admit that the elder Jedi had a point. But he had already promised Anakin that he would train him—the Force had hummed between them, their connection so strong already...

"But-"

"Asked him, I did. Agreed he has, for understand, he does," said Yoda, and although the amusement remained, there was an edge of finality to his words. Qui-Gon sighed, knowing that this was a battle he would not be able to win. Anakin would be trained, though, and he did feel immense relief knowing that he would not have another Padawan...

Again his thoughts turned to his apprentice. "Obi-Wan..."

"Knighted, he will be, for killing the Sith," said Yoda. "His final trial, this mission was, though knew it, he did not." Qui-Gon beamed, freely broadcasting his pride into the Force. He had known that his padawan was ready for the Trials—he had been right. "Go to Ilum, he will. Find a new crystal, he will, and return for his ceremony." Qui-Gon nodded, and frowned slightly at the odd look on Yoda's face. It felt as though he were hiding something, but he was too exhausted to ask what.

"Sleep, now, you will," Yoda murmured, pushing a sleep suggestion at him. Qui-Gon glared without malice at the diminutive Jedi, and then slept again.

The trip back to Coruscant was not a particularly comfortable one for Qui-Gon. Despite the large, well-equipped ship Queen Amidala had provided for them, he was barely able to sleep those five days back to the capital. The bed was certainly large and comfortable enough, and the food—while rather bland, at the insistence of his Healers—was good. It was neither hunger nor physical discomfort that kept him up—the now mostly healed wound in his abdomen barely even ached anymore.

No, what kept him awake when everyone else was in their beds was a feeling, a sense, that something was wrong. Qui-Gon was nowhere near as sensitive to the Unifying Force as his padawan, but he, too, had the occasional feeling of warning. He had first felt that something was amiss when he woke on Naboo, in the infirmary. Qui-Gon had then attributed it to his recent encounter with the Sith agent, knowing that such use of the Dark Force could upset the balance around him for some time after. But it persisted, even after they were far from Naboo and any lingering evidence of the Sith's presence. He began to wonder, then, if he was actually experiencing one of his rare hints of the future.

In the meantime, Qui-Gon did his best to ignore it. He knew that there was little he could do about this feeling other than acknowledge it and try not to let it overwhelm him. Instead of focusing on the vague hints and sensations of warning whispered to him by the Force, he thought of what he would do when they got to Coruscant. He would have to give his report to the Council, obviously, as Yoda had been the only one to receive the full details of events on Naboo, and then...

What would he do? If he still had his padawan with him, his days would be full of training, overseeing lessons and teaching. He could still teach, of course, but his training was limited; though the wound no longer hurt all of the time, Qui-Gon knew that it would if he over-exerted himself. As for overseeing lessions... well, he no longer had a padawan to oversee, did he?

He frowned, thinking for the thousandth time of Obi-Wan's strange departure. While he knew that the loss of his 'saber would bother his padawan, with it having been his first and only 'saber, it was rare that Qui-Gon was without Obi-Wan's constant, calming presence. The Force whispered to him once again, and he sighed. Yes, there was definitely something... abnormal about this, about Obi-Wan at the moment. He reflected, yet again, on Yoda's conviction that it was this disturbing imbalance in the Force caused by the Sith warrior, and settled himself against his pillows. Once his padawan had had time to meditate and find his balance, Obi-Wan would return. And, Qui-Gon thought, brightening, he would be Knighted.

However... the sheer rage he had sensed from Obi-Wan after he had fallen to the Sith had been more than a bit discomforting. Coupled with the fear, Obi-Wan's first attempts to fight the Zabrak had been clumsy, rooted in his anger rather than the tranquility of the Force. Qui-Gon felt a chill once more as he thought of Xanatos, but dispelled the notion forcefully. Obi-Wan was nothing like his former apprentice—he was kind, filled with good humor, hard-working (though Force knew he hadn't needed to be, in many areas already well advanced for his age), and he was neither cocky nor as stubborn as Xanatos had been.

There was a knock on the door, and Qui-Gon welcomed the interruption to that train of thought. "Come in," he said, not bothering to move from his position. He was lying on the bed, staring at the grey ceiling of the cabin.

The door slid open and Anakin stepped into the room. The boy had been remarkably patient and understanding with him, given his previous outbursts. Qui-Gon had expected him to be more upset about this turn of events than he was, and was pleasantly surprised when Anakin just smiled and said that it was okay for another Jedi to train him. He was just glad to see that Qui-Gon was alive and healing.

"Hello, Anakin," the Jedi greeted him. He smiled, amused by the sight of the boy's hair cut into the traditional padawan style. A very small braid just barely poked out from behind his right ear, and Qui-Gon could easily envision how it would grow to be long and full of the beads and ties symbolising the different trials he would undergo on his path to becoming a Knight.

"Hello, Master Qui-Gon," he answered. "Master Yoda says that I have to call you that now because that's what padawans call the Jedi Masters. It shouldn't be too hard to remember, since I called you Mister, and that sounds a lot like Master." Force, Qui-Gon had forgotten how much the boy could talk! He had not seen much of Anakin in the past few days; Qui-Gon had rested much of the time and Anakin had been receiving special training from Yoda in an effort to prepare him for life at the Temple.

"How are things going with Master Yoda?" Qui-Gon asked. Anakin shrugged, a small grin on his face.

"It's okay, I guess," he answered. "He's nice and all, but a bit too... serious, like he has to think really hard about everything he says. I think you would've been more fun." Anakin's tone was speculative, and slightly sullen, but without a touch of regret. Qui-Gon chuckled openly.

"In time, Anakin, you will learn to see Master Yoda's own brand of humor for what it is," he assured him. "How are the lessons going?"

"I don't know how I'm going to remember everything!" he said, sounding rather dismayed. "All that information about the sorts of things padawans have to do, and all the classes I'm going to have to take, and learning how to fight with a lightsaber..." Anakin continued to tell him about his concerns, and Qui-Gon allowed himself to be caught up in the young boy's speech. He wondered if he had ever been that enthusiastic, and did not think of Obi-Wan or the strange, nagging feeling for another few hours.

When they did arrive on Coruscant less than a day later, Yoda took Anakin off to the quarters they would share together, leaving Qui-Gon with nothing to do but return to his own quarters. Wanting to put it off for as long as possible, rebelling at the idea of returning home without his padawan, he went to one of the meditation gardens. Finding himself a secluded, quiet corner, he sank to his knees and gathered the Force around him.

Qui-Gon did not know how long he spent in meditation. He guessed that it had been several hours when he was finally drawn out of his trance by his commlink going off; switching it on, he saw an alert and summons from the Council, no reason given.

Frowning, he rose and stretched for a moment before making his way through the corridors to the Council chamber. He paused to nod at a few Knights and Padawans he had not seen for several months, since he and Obi-Wan were last at the Temple, but no one stopped to engage him in conversation, no doubt sensing the anxiety and tension he had been unable to release fully into the Force. All too soon he found himself in front of the Council door, and he paused a moment to collect himself before entering.