So, for chapter two, I ended up splitting it into two chapters so that I could give it the necessary details that it needed. There's actually quite a bit of new content in this chapter. (My disclaimer from the first chapter still holds)
Rewritten as of 10-16-2015
Awake and Alive
"Feel my way through the Darkness,
Guided by a beating heart.
I can't tell where this journey will end,
But I know where to start."
~Avicii, "Wake Me Up"
Obi-Wan felt his heart fading, breath practically non-existent in his lungs. His chest ached, and the darkness was all he could see. He no longer felt the tears that fell, nor the wounds inflicted over the past days. He knew that his next breaths would be his last. He did not fear death, for then he would be one with the Force and he would be reunited with those he had lost.
But, his traitorous mind whispered, you failed. Why should the Force grant you anything? He shoved the thought away. No matter what the Force did, he would trust it. It was the only constant he had left.
With his last breath, he exhaled all his fear. He would place his reliance wholly on the Force, like he should have done years earlier. Let it do what it willed. He gave himself over to its arms.
The Light hummed around him, wrapping him in a soft song, a gentle voice. All pain was gone, though his exhaustion still gripped him. His eyes felt heavy, and he was content to just lie there. It had been so long since he had the chance to completely relax.
The whispers of a voice, low and familiar, echoed in his ears. He could feel the firm, but gentle grip on his shoulder…
A violent shake. What? He still wasn't allowed a rest?
The Light had faded, its song nearly gone - now a chuckling hum. He could feel the hands on his shoulders more clearly, and the weight of their owner bending the soft surface beneath him. He could feel the cool fabric tangled around his legs, and he stirred.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes reluctantly. The place was dark, not like the darkness of death, but rather like the darkness of night. Only a dim light shone in the room, similar to Coruscant's evening city-scape. Was this what being one with the Force meant? He hadn't thought that it would be quite like this.
His gaze landed on the face of the man who had woken him. At first he didn't recognise the figure, and he blinked. Was he seeing who he thought he saw? He repeated the action, confirming his suspicions. Sitting beside him, a mildly concerned look on his face, was Qui-Gon Jinn. The man he had strived to please, and had only ever failed.
"What?" he gasped. "Master?" Would his old master really want to be the one to welcome him into the Force after the magnitude of Obi-Wan's failure? He couldn't stop the tears from brimming, nor his voice cracking with sorrow as he spoke the only word he was capable of in his grief: "Master!"
The breath was nearly knocked from him as his body hit the floor, and he gave a strangled cry as his arm hit something hard behind him. In his confusion, he had unconsciously shoved himself away from his master and off the side of the bed he hadn't realized he was in. What the kriff? He was in his bedroom, from his padawan days.
His arm throbbed as he tried to regain his breath. But, shouldn't being one with the Force mean no more pain? And...and if there was pain, did that mean he was...alive? He slowly raised his eyes to meet the gaze of his master - the master that should be dead as well.
Swallowing hard, he rasped out, "You're alive!" He didn't understand. It was impossible. He had been stabbed by the red 'saber, much like his master had at the hands of Sidious's apprentice. They should both be dead. But Qui-Gon just stared at him, as shocked as he was. What was the Force doing?
He place a hand on his desk to pull himself to his feet. As he did so, his fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the river stone that had always been his greatest treasure. During the war, he had kept the stone on his desk to keep it from becoming lost, but he still remembered the years when the keepsake had almost never left his person.
A wave of nostalgia and grief swept over him as he ran his thumb over the stone. He could feel his heart shattering again, and struggled to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He already felt too much shame to break down in front of Qui-Gon. So, instead, he closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face, swallowing the sobs with difficulty. Find out what's going on. Grieve later.
He froze, then drew his hand away from his face. His beard was gone! He glanced at his master, unsure if he was the only one who was different, before dropping his eyes back to the rock in his hands. No, not possible. His hands were no longer the callused, scarred hands of General Kenobi, but smooth, slender, and young. What was happening here?
He reached out for the familiar power of the Force and staggered back a few paces in his shock. For in grasping for the Force, he had latched onto the river stone's sensitivity, and the onslaught of images stored there filled his mind and brought him to his knees.
Qui-Gon watched in concern as his padawan struggled to his feet, still shaken. Blue-green eyes were distant and confused. The boy had picked up the river stone he had given him for his thirteenth birthday, and was rubbing it softly.
The teenager closed his eyes and ran a hand over his mouth and chin, swallowing hard. The Jedi Master could see the tears trickling down Obi-Wan's face and he had to sternly remind himself that he would not coddle the boy. It was merely a dream. It would pass in time.
Obi-Wan suddenly stiffened and glanced up at him, before dropping his gaze again. What was going on with his padawan? He had never seen the boy act this way before. Whatever he had dreamt about had seriously messed with Obi-Wan's head. Not liking this idea, he asked, "Are you alright?"
Instead of answering, his apprentice had begun to reach out to the Force with an ease that surprised him. Most senior padawans weren't capable of this feat, and yet, his fifteen year old student was doing so adeptly.
Or maybe it wasn't so easy. For in the moments that he had stared, startled, Obi-Wan had staggered backwards and collapsed to his knees. His eyes were vacant and his face was pale. His padawan was experiencing a vision.
He would not stand back and watch. The Jedi Master moved quickly to his padawan's side and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. Obi-Wan had hunched over, nearly curled in a ball as whatever he was viewing overwhelmed him. After a long moment's hesitation, Qui-Gon opened up the bond, hoping to gain a glimpse of what his padawan was seeing.
Only, he couldn't. Not for anything on his part, but rather that the teen had raised impressively strong walls, and all he could sense was that Obi-Wan was awed and shocked by whatever he saw. He reached out along the shields, looking for a crack, a flaw, but found nothing.
He sat back, ignoring the bond to stare at the boy. So it came as a complete shock when he heard a mental voice. "Master…" He started. They hardly used the bond - and telepathy was not something easily done. What was going on?
"I think I need to meditate on this, Master," Obi-Wan rasped. He had uncurled himself now and sat quietly, head lowered. Qui-Gon blinked, shocked. What would make his normally active, impatient padawan want to meditate?
But it was late, and they both needed rest. In the morning, he would get answers.
Hahaha...not so fast, Qui-Gon. You only think you'll get answers. I'm not going to make it that easy. :)
