A/N: Surprise! Here's Chapter 2. Enjoy! :)


If Obi-Wan was being completely honest with himself, he didn't exactly expect to wake up in the Halls of Healing. Waking up at all was a surprise in itself, knowing the circumstances leading to his recent bout of unconsciousness, but waking up in the Jedi Temple was even more of a surprise.

Simply put, Obi-Wan expected to either die at Dooku's hand or be taken by Dooku, somewhere. He didn't want to know where.

It didn't matter now. Neither of those things happened.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, feeling his stomach churn with nausea and dizziness. The lightsaber wounds on his left arm and leg were swathed with bandages but were still quite painful. He felt as though he was floating, or at least he was underwater, watching something unfold like one of those holodramas that Anakin enjoyed watching.

Anakin.

"Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blinked sluggishly. He generally was pretty quick to respond whenever people spoke to him, but now his mind felt lethargic, even more lethargic than his body.

"Awake, you are," Master Yoda continued.

"Wha…?" Obi-Wan managed eloquently, voice immediately drying up in his throat.

"Remember what happened, do you?" the grandmaster asked softly, as though Obi-Wan was a youngling in need of reassurance.

He remembered…the arena. Geonosis. Anakin and Senator Amidala arriving, and the three of them being sentenced to execution. The beasts, the clones, the Jedi. The Separatists.

Dooku.

"Anakin?" he asked finally.

Master Yoda shook his head slowly. "Arrived, I did, too late," he replied. "Dead, your padawan is. As is mine."

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to understand, but coherent thought was slipping through his mind like fine sand.

"Dooku?" he mumbled. Master Yoda killed Dooku?

As though he was sensing his thoughts, Master Yoda nodded gravely.

"What about—" he began, and then coughed into his sleeve. He must have been unconscious for a long time if his throat was this dry. "Separatists?" he managed.

"Changed, something has," Master Yoda answered. "Retreated, they have, but unclear it is what will happen."

The door swung open, revealing the head healer, Vokara Che. "Kenobi," she greeted brusquely, though her face was openly displaying a sort of relief.

"Come back later, I will," Master Yoda said, nodding to Obi-Wan and the healer before standing up from his chair and leaving the room.

"Drink slowly," Master Che commanded as soon as the grandmaster left, pushing a cup into Obi-Wan's right hand. Obi-Wan complied, knowing that his throat was too dry for him to carry a conversation properly.

"Your arm and leg are healing nicely," Master Che began. "The bacta is working well on the surface wounds, but as you probably know, the damaged muscle and nerves will need time and proper treatment to heal."

Obi-Wan nodded, and immediately regretted it as the movement caused his vision to blur as he was suddenly overwhelmed by a bout of dizziness.

"You are currently suffering from a severe psychic backlash from your broken bond with your Padawan," Master Che continued, more softly now. "I've put you on some pain relief and relaxants for that reason. You're going to have sessions with a mind healer once you're more sufficiently recovered."

"Is that necessary?" he asked. He was given the option before, after Qui-Gon died, but Obi-Wan didn't have time to see a mind healer, and he felt fine at the time.

"I'm afraid you have no say in the matter. Having two active and strong Force bonds break by death in less than a decade is not an easy matter. Your mind is damaged quite severely by the shock," she said bluntly.

Oh. Normally he would protest more to this, but he couldn't quite make the words form. The room was blurring too rapidly. The cup he was holding was immediately taken from his hand and he was being gently adjusted to lie down on his back.

"Sleep, Obi-Wan," he heard someone say before everything turned blissfully black.


The next time he woke up, he immediately noticed that the healers took him off some of the drugs he was on before, and everything that happened seemed to crash down on him all at once. The pain was much more present than before.

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, trying to shift himself away from the bright lights slamming into his vision. Moving, however, wasn't a great idea. He was quickly reminded of the still-healing wounds on his left arm and leg.

"Obi, I know it hurts, but I need you to open your eyes for me, okay?"

Obi-Wan struggled to take a few breaths before opening his eyes. Everything was really blurry, but it seemed like the lights were dimmer now. Bant's face swam into view, eyes wide and concerned.

"We're trying to wean you off some of the drugs you were on before," Bant said softly, "If it's too much, I can put you back on some of them."

Obi-Wan began to shake his head, then realized that moving his head at all was not a good idea. He closed his eyes and breathed. "It's fine," he replied.

"The offer still stands if you change your mind," she said.

"I'll keep that in mind," Obi-Wan said. He carefully began to sit himself up, and Bant immediately moved to help him.

Once he was settled, Bant spoke again. "How are you?" she asked gently. "I know losing Anakin must have been really hard for you."

Obi-Wan shrugged his right shoulder, almost noncommittally. "What happened after Geonosis?" he asked, desperately changing the topic to something else, anything else.

Bant stared at him for a long moment before sighing. "The Separatists have gone completely quiet," she said finally. "Without Dooku, they don't really know how to keep a war going."

"Would they be willing to negotiate for peace, then?" Obi-Wan asked.

"That would be ideal," she said, "but for now, they haven't done anything, and most of the Senate, including the Chancellor, doesn't want to open communications with them."

Obi-Wan blinked. "That's a bit odd, isn't it? There is no war, no conflict, but the Chancellor doesn't even want to consider negotiating with the Separatists for peace?" he asked.

"The Council is just as confused as you are. They won't admit it, obviously, but…" Bant shrugged again.

There was a long pause. Obi-Wan focused on releasing his pain to the Force, but using the Force at all seemed to only remind him that everything in his mind felt raw and bleeding. Damaged.

Bant seemed to notice his efforts. She placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "It's okay if you need something for the pain, Obi," she said softly.

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth slightly. "I don't…" he managed, bowing his head slightly as a fresh wave of pain overwhelmed him. He distantly heard a monitor start beeping urgently before the world seemed to tilt around him.

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest, almost painfully. He struggled to breathe, but he wasn't getting much air into his nose or mouth. Obi-Wan let out a strangled sound, shaking visibly.

He barely heard Bant speaking to him before she pressed an oxygen mask to his face. Obi-Wan breathed, sagging in relief as the air finally passed into his mouth, down to his lungs. The pain remained, but he was breathing slowly and deeply around it.

A few moments passed before he nodded. Bant pulled the mask away from his face. Obi-Wan took a few more deep breaths, though it was a little more difficult than before.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Obi-Wan exhaled. "No," he said softly. "Bant, Anakin is…" The grief pulled at him. "Why did this have to happen?" he asked.

His friend shook her head, eyes teary. "I'm sorry, Obi," she said.

Obi-Wan struggled for another breath. "What's going to happen?" he asked. "I don't…I promised Qui-Gon I would train him, Bant."

"You did train him, Obi-Wan," she replied, eyes wide.

"He's dead!" Obi-Wan snapped suddenly, as a sudden surge of emotion welled in his chest. "Anakin is dead, and it's my fault."

Bant shushed him. Obi-Wan took a few more breaths, struggling to center himself. He was a Jedi. He needed to remain calm.

"What do I do?" he asked finally. He felt as though he was cast out into the middle of an ocean, with nothing to reel him in. Alone, desperate, and unsure.

Bant smiled and sat down next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders in a one-armed hug. Obi-Wan melted slightly into the hug.

"For now?" she said finally. "Live one day at a time, Obi. Focus on healing. You need a mind healer. Once you're ready, we can decide what you want to do. You don't need to know right now."

Obi-Wan bowed his head. "When did you get so wise, Bant?" he whispered.

"Oh, I learned a lot from you, Obi," she said. "You know that."

Obi-Wan smiled shakily. "Thank you," he said.

They sat like that for a few minutes, until Obi-Wan fell asleep resting his head on Bant's shoulder.


A day passed, then two. Obi-Wan's arm and leg healed, and he was released from the Ward, though he still needed to use a crutch while the muscles in his leg healed.

He started going to a mind healer, who helped him seal away the broken bonds in his mind. He continued going to the mind healer afterwards, realizing that he needed to talk to someone about his grief about Qui-Gon and Anakin and everything that happened to him.

Though there was no war, there was still tension between the Republic and the Separatists, and the Jedi found themselves caught in the middle of that tension, unsure.

Six months after Anakin's death, Obi-Wan decided to take another Padawan. Or rather, he came across a young Togruta girl who reminded him so much of Anakin that he knew immediately that she would be his Padawan. The Force was insisting on it, after all.

Two weeks later, Ahsoka Tano became his Padawan, and Obi-Wan began to feel truly happy for the first time in almost seven months.

Anakin's death seemed to spark something in the Order, and Obi-Wan found himself thinking more and more of what Dooku told him on Geonosis, before the arena.

"There's a Sith Lord in the Senate," he said, more to himself, but Ahsoka looked up from her datapad and frowned.

"What?" she asked, cocking her head slightly. "How do you know that?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Wouldn't it make sense, though?" he asked. "The way everything is going now…wouldn't it make sense?"

Ahsoka stared at him for a long moment.

"I think…we should spend the next mission rotation at the Senate, Master," she said finally, brows raised.


It did not take long for Obi-Wan to determine the identity of the Sith Lord. It took even less time for him to gather the Council and for them to come up with a plan. They were going to be patient and wait for the right time to strike.

A little over a year after Anakin's death, Master Windu killed Chancellor Palpatine, who was identified to be the Sith Master. Dooku was his apprentice. The Force immediately balanced itself, and suddenly everything was clear.

With Obi-Wan's help, Senator Amidala was able to uncover evidence that Palpatine was committing treason against the Republic. The Senate eventually agreed that something would need to change, to prevent someone like Palpatine, regardless of Sith Lord status, from rising again. It would probably take time, from what Padmé told Obi-Wan, but eventually, there will be a solution.

A few weeks after Palpatine's death, Obi-Wan sat on the couch of his apartment, aimlessly flipping through channels on the holo. Ahsoka was away for a Padawan retreat, and he fully intended on using the time alone to unwind.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan jerked and stood up. He spun around, eyes wide.

He thought he heard Anakin's voice.

No, it was impossible. Anakin was dead.

Obi-Wan probably needed to get some sleep. He turned off the holo and began to walk to his bedroom to do exactly that.

"Master, it's me!"

Obi-Wan turned around slowly. Standing in front of him was Anakin, a ghost of sorts, smiling at him.

"Anakin?" he said finally, voice dry. "How?"

Anakin shrugged and smiled. "That would be telling, Master," he replied. "I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Obi-Wan asked. "I failed you, Anakin."

Anakin shook his head. "For believing in me," he said, and with a final smile, he disappeared.

"Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered into the wind, hoping that somehow, Anakin heard him. He turned around again and walked over to his bedroom, ready to sleep.