This chapter is set about a month after the first one- Obi-Wan is still 13, but he is very close to turning 14.

Chapter 2

Qui-Gon is going to murder Obi-Wan. There is no doubt about it.

That is his only thought as he staggers and crumples to the ground in the middle of his saber class.

He has been distracted as of late, and it has greatly affected his sparring. Nightmares from Melida/Daan crowd his sleep, and he can't remember the last time he slept the whole night through without waking up gasping for breath, Cerasi or Bruck Chun's name on his lips. Sometimes he doesn't manage to save Bant, and sometimes it is Qui-Gon who dies in his dreams.

Ironically, last night was the only night in the past two months that he'd actually slept the whole night through, and it was only because he and Qui-Gon had been up until the wee hours of the night, prepping for the mission that they were supposed to leave for tomorrow. His dreams had been troubled, but he'd been too tired for real nightmares.

"You can sleep in tomorrow and skip your sparring class if you want, Padawan," Qui-Gon had said as they'd packed up the mountain of data pads that they'd been poring over ceaselessly for the past several hours. "I'll have Master Drallig excuse you for the day. It's more important that you be well-rested for this mission."

And like the idiot that he is, Obi-Wan had shaken his head and arisen at an ungodly hour for saber class in spite of his master's advice to do otherwise. He'd felt the need to work off some nervous energy this morning, and sparring was always excellent for such a purpose. He wants to be good and exhausted for the mission, so that whenever they find time to sleep, he will be able to do so without nightmares.

Truth be told, he is worried about returning to the field. He feels like this is all he's been waiting for for the past two months, but now that the time has arrived he is suddenly anxious. After his disastrous experiences with Bant's kidnapping and Bruck Chun's subsequent death, he doubts himself more than he ever has in the past. His relationship with Qui-Gon is still on somewhat unsteady footing, and he is terrified of that he might not get another chance if he makes another big mistake.

On the other hand, he knows that Qui-Gon is restless, and that the Jedi master is extremely grateful for their diplomatic assignment to the Nubian system, however trivial it may be.

Just as Obi-Wan has not spoken of what had happened on Melida/Daan or in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, nor has Qui-Gon spoken about what had transpired on Telos, leading to Xanatos' death. He suspects that Qui-Gon is anxious for the distraction of field work to take his mind off the loss of his wayward apprentice.

Their mission appears to be a simple one—they are simply going to oversee a change in power from one political party to another—but Obi-Wan dreads messing things up for his master.

This worry, along with the fact that he has been sleeping poorly, leaves him vulnerable and open to attack in saber class. It doesn't help that he is dueling against Siri Tachi, who is a formidable opponent in all areas of physical fighting, in spite of the fact that she is two years younger.

Normally they are extremely well-matched opponents—Obi-Wan is one of the only people who can keep up with Siri's acrobatic Ataru fighting style, and he delights in how much of a challenge it is to beat her, or even just hold his own against her relentless, well-placed attacks. He knows that she doesn't approve of him at all because he had left the Order and then returned, and that adds an interesting edge to their spars.

But today he is sluggish; always on the defensive and quickly losing ground. The Force feels further away than normal; muted in his exhausted brain.

It all happens in less than the blink of an eye—Siri feints left and does an impossibly graceful backflip right over his head. It would have been the perfect maneuver to twist around and instantly disarm him—

—were it not for the fact that he is already dropping straight to the ground, her heel having connected squarely with his temple.

He hears all the other sparring partners instantly come to a halt as they realize that one of their number is down. Master Drallig makes his way over, the Force barely rippling in the face of his grave calm. Meanwhile, he can feel Siri's sharp, shrill panic.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," she says, her eyes impossibly wide as she kneels down next to him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "I thought you were going to follow my feint, but then I miscalculated and—"

Obi-Wan dizzily shakes his head to clear his muddled thoughts, only to stop immediately when he realizes how much motion makes his head hurt right now. He can't for the life of him remember why Siri is apologizing to him or where he even is, so he settles for vacantly patting her on the arm in what he hopes is a sympathetic manner.

"S'okay, Siri," he murmurs. His eyelids are very heavy, which is something that isn't supposed to happen in saber class. If he doesn't keep his eyes open, he's probably going to lose this duel…wait, is he dueling right now?

She eyes him with real worry now. "Master Drallig…I don't think he's okay."

Cin Drallig crouches down next to the pair of them. "I quite agree, Initiate Tachi. Padawan Muln, call for the healer ward and tell them to send a medical droid down." He takes a gentle hold of Obi-Wan's chin and Obi-Wan jerks in surprise as the Jedi Master looks deeply into his eyes. "Tell them Padawan Kenobi has a moderate concussion in Training Salle 7."

Obi-Wan spies a concerned-looking Garen over Siri's shoulder and gives him a friendly wave, wondering why everyone looks so somber. The little line between Siri's eyebrows deepens.

"Bant, would you please comm Master Jinn and inform him of his padawan's condition?" Master Drallig continues.

Bant nods in acquiescence, giving a quick bow before disappearing with her comm, placing a comforting hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder for a second as she walks by.

Master Drallig's request to Bant suddenly registers in Obi-Wan's mind, and a flood of memory comes back to him…the mission tomorrow! He can't have a concussion right now; Qui-Gon will never forgive him for delaying them yet again from getting back into the field. Not to mention the fact that Qui-Gon already hadn't wanted him to come to class today.

He shakes his head fervently, ignoring the sharp spikes of pain the action sends jolting through his skull. "No!" He protests dizzily. "Don't call Qui-Gon! I'm fine, really!" To prove how fine he is, he weakly pushes himself to his knees, attempting to clamber to his feet.

To his own great surprise, and to the apparent surprise of nobody else in the room, this brilliant plan fails. Fortunately Reeft is there to catch him, his wrinkled face unusually serious.

Bant is back all of a sudden then, a smile on her lips. "Master Jinn commed me before I could comm him, actually," she says, coming to kneel next to Obi-Wan again, her familiar presence comforting. He really wishes everyone else would back up a little bit. "Said he felt the moment Obi-Wan went down through the bond. He'll meet you in the medical ward, Obi," she says. "He seemed worried," she murmurs for his ears only, moving closer.

Obi-Wan fights to keep the stupid smile that is rising in his chest off his face, even though he should be protesting against Qui-Gon being informed of anything surrounding this incident.

But that smile is quickly wiped off his face as the medical droids and Vokara Che herself enter the training salle. Obi-Wan hates medical attention more than anything else, but he is too disoriented and weak to do much to fight off Healer Che's treatment. The droids methodically heft him onto a gurney and then he is being rolled away under Che's stern gaze.

"I know you're a troublesome one, Kenobi. But if you're going to get better quickly, you'd best not fight me this time." It is true that he is well-acquainted with Che and her flat, business-like bedside manner. She is a good healer; he just doesn't like healers on principle.

Obi-Wan frowns right back at her, feeling quite daring. But then again, he has a head injury, so he figures any out-of-character behavior can be excused. He would keep glaring in fierce protest, but the motion of the gurney is actually sort of soothing, and his eyelids are still incredibly heavy.

"Don't tell Qui-Gon," is the last thing he manages to murmur before he passes out.

For a time, all he can hear are muffled voices, as though he is underwater and people are talking on the surface. He immediately recognizes one voice as his master's, and the other one is familiar but he can't put a name to it from his murky place of observation.

"…should be just fine, Master Jinn. He'll need to take it easy for a few days, of course, but there is no lasting brain injury, so you can stop your fretting now," a no-nonsense voice says. Vokara Che. He is in the infirmary. Why…

"I wasn't fretting," Qui-Gon says, sounding mildly affronted. "It was just hard to tell how severe the injury was over the bond, that's all. Mental connections are notoriously fickle, as you very well know…"

Master Che lets out a noise that Obi-Wan might have called a snort had he thought the stern woman capable of such an undignified form of expression.

"Oh, so you were just pacing a hole in the floor to keep your circulation going, were you?" She says, but she seems to decide to drop the matter. "Garen Muln mentioned that it was Siri Tachi who managed to get a kick in to the head. Any idea why Obi-Wan was so distracted? It's not like him."

Qui-Gon is silent for a long moment, and Obi-Wan almost falls asleep until he hears his master speak again and claws his way back to wakefulness.

"We have both been…distracted as of late. Perhaps myself overly so. I have been neglecting his needs to deal with my own grief over…recent events. But that will change."

There is a surprising amount of empathy in Vokara Che's voice when she speaks. "Yes, I was sorry to hear about the loss of Knight Xanatos. Even though he Turned, I'm sure that must have been hard on you. I remember him getting into a lot of scrapes at this age, just like Obi-Wan." A pause. "But Obi-Wan is not Xanatos, Qui-Gon. You would do well to remember that."

Qui-Gon laughs dryly. "I know that. Force knows, I know that. If there's one thing I've learned from this whole mess, it's that Obi-Wan is unabashedly his own person. He would never Turn, although he will do reckless things for the people and causes he cares about."

Obi-Wan wonders if he is just wishfully dreaming this conversation. Qui-Gon sounds almost…proud of him? After all he'd done to mess up their relationship, and Qui-Gon still speaks of him with high regard.

"You would do well to remember that, then," Vokara Che says. "I must attend to some other patients, but you can sit with him for a while if you want. He's drifting between sleep and unconsciousness right now, and I don't think he'll be coherent for a few hours yet."

There is the sound of footsteps and then silence. He feels Qui-Gon draw closer, though he can't reach out and touch their bond with his mind in this state.

"Sleep now, Padawan."

Qui-Gon's voice carries a hint of a Force suggestion, and Obi-Wan doesn't even have the energy to wonder how Qui-Gon had known that he wasn't quite unconscious before he is drifting, weightless, towards sleep.

The last thing he feels is a large, warm hand brushing the hair from his bruised, sore temple, and it's as though something deep within him quiets at the gentle motion. He struggles to hold onto the sensation as he floats away—he has a feeling that he won't remember any of this later, but he wants to remember the fleeting feeling of Qui-Gon's affection forever.

The next time he awakes, it is much easier to come back to consciousness. His head hurts, but the pain is no longer disorienting and distracting him from every other thought. He swims his way back to reality, struggling to remember all the events that had landed him in the medical ward in the first place—oh, right. He'd been tired in saber class and then Siri Tachi had kicked him in the head.

He smiles as he opens his gritty eyes—Siri is never going to let him live this down, once she gets over her guilt at having accidentally hurt him. He rubs his eyes to clear them and then notices a small figure bouncing on the edge of his bed.

He blinks several times, but the image doesn't dissipate, and it takes him a minute to connect the image of the blue-skinned being to the name Nat.

"Nat!" He yelps in surprise. The boy looks up from the toy he is playing with, his dark eyes brightening.

"Obi-Wan!" He shouts joyfully, flinging himself upwards to hug Obi-Wan's midsection. "You're alive!" Obi-Wan keeps blinking in confusion, patting Nat's back a few times until the boy sits back up again. It is a very odd way to wake up after being unconscious.

The first thing he notices is that Nat appears to be much healthier—his skin is a much darker, richer blue color; almost the same shade as his father's. And his Force presence is almost completely unclouded, full of pure light and energy.

"Yes, I believe I am," Obi-Wan says slowly. "Nat, why are you here?"

"In the Temple?" Nat resumes his bouncing, and Obi-Wan wills his aching head to stop rattling with the jarring motion. "I'm here with the Jedi so I can get better! Master Che gives me medicine every day and now I hardly ever cough anymore! And she's teaching me my letters and says I can go to school soon!"

He somehow manages to say this all in one breath.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," Obi-Wan says. "Have you seen Master Qui-Gon around at all?" He has a dim memory of Qui-Gon being here earlier perhaps.

Nat nods enthusiastically. "Yes! He's talking to Daddy right now. He looked really worried about you, just like my daddy gets worried about me when I'm sick."

Obi-Wan clears his throat uncomfortably. "Nat, I told you; Qui-Gon is just my master; he's not my—"

The door swings open then and to Obi-Wan's surprise, Bant Eerin steps inside the infirmary room.

"Oh, good," she sighs upon seeing the two of them on the bed. "Are you Nat? Master Che has been looking for you for almost half an hour now."

"Uh-oh," Nat says, his cheerful leg-swinging coming to a halt. He hops down off the bed, face dejected. "I should have told her I was sneaking away to visit Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan fights back a smile. "I think if you had told her you were sneaking away, she wouldn't have let you come. But I'm sure if you apologize and promise not to do it again, she won't be too hard on you."

Nat heaves a heavy sigh, but bravely squares his shoulders and marches down the hallway to face the stern infirmary matron.

Bant grins as she draws closer, taking a seat in the chair next to Obi-Wan's bed. "If he were Force-sensitive, he'd make a good Jedi."

Obi-Wan laughs. "He would run circles around even Master Yoda."

Bant chuckles, but her eyes become serious as she shifts forward in her chair. "How are you, Obi?"

Obi-Wan shifts to sit up against the backboard of the bed, grimacing slightly as his unused muscles groan in protest. "I'm fine, I think. My memory gets a little blurry after Siri kicked me, but it's really nothing more than a headache at this point. Bruised pride and all that."

"Good," Bant says, her wide, Mon Calamari eyes full of emotion. "That was frightening, Obi-Wan. Blows to the temple can easily be fatal. You're lucky it was Siri and not someone bigger and heavier. Although nobody but Siri would ever be able to actually get a hit in on you," she finishes with a grin.

"I'm fine, Bant," he reassures her. He is warmed by Bant's concern—after all they have been through together, especially after Bant's kidnapping by Bruck Chun, she is still his best friend, and he knows that they have the kind of friendship that will last a lifetime. Just like Qui-Gon's friendship with Master Tahl. Speaking of which…

"Hey, how are things going with Master Uvain? I feel bad that I haven't asked you before." In dealing with his nightmares and grief and worry, he has been neglectful of his friendship with Bant, who had been accepted as Tahl's padawan after Bruck Chun's death.

Bant smiles, although she looks slightly troubled. "Things are good, but she's actually out on a mission alone right now. I think she fears I'm too young to really help her on most of her missions. It might just take some time…"

They chat for the next fifteen or twenty minutes or so about Bant's apprenticeship and the gossip amongst their friends. Garen had left yesterday for a mission all the way to the Outer Rim, and isn't expected back for a few months. Word of Siri's fighting prowess has spread through the Temple, and rumor has it that a few of the Masters are considering the intense, high-spirited twelve-year-old as a potential padawan.

Obi-Wan is embarrassed that his mishap with Siri is news around the Temple, but happy for the blond girl. Even though she doesn't like him, he can freely admit that she will make a fine Knight one day.

Eventually his eyelids grow heavy, and he begins drifting in and out of the conversation with Bant, who doesn't seem offended. He vaguely wonders where Qui-Gon is—he can feel his master's presence through their bond and senses that he is somewhere nearby. Maybe he is still chatting with Pharrin. For some odd reason, Obi-Wan has the brief, fleeting wish that the older Jedi could be here right now, to sit beside him as he sleeps. It is a selfish wish—Qui-Gon has much better things to do besides watching his injured padawan sleep. But he wants it all the same, and he doesn't know where this selfishness comes from.

"Bant," he says suddenly, interrupting Bant's low, soothing voice telling him a story about her first mission with Tahl.

He thinks of some of the comments Nat has made to him comparing Qui-Gon to Pharrin. "Bant, do you remember your family at all? Like, your family from before you came to the Temple?"

Bant is quiet for a long moment. "I do, actually. I didn't come to the Temple until I was almost four—much later than many others. It's not a very clear memory. But I remember my parents and my older sister."

"What were they like?" Obi-Wan asks, his eyes closed now. He strains to remember something; anything from his pre-Temple past, but there is nothing there except a vague memory of standing in a lush green meadow next to a chubby baby with ginger hair, who had perhaps been called Owen. His little brother. The more he tries to focus and sharpen the memory, the further and further it slips away from his mind. He wonders if his parents ever think about him here at the Temple, growing up to be a Jedi Knight. He wonders if Owen, who would probably be about twelve now, even knows that he had had an older brother once.

"They were amazing," Bant says reverently. Obi-Wan is honored that she is choosing to share such a personal memory with him. "My mother used to rock me to sleep at night, and she'd sing to my sister and me as we did the cooking and cleaning. My father would hold me whenever I felt sick, and he'd hold my hand when we went swimming. I cried for days when I left them."

Something about the last part of Bant's memory strikes him. Father.

A terrible realization slowly dawns on him. This reason, if true, would explain why he has been having this strange, unnamed wanting feeling whenever he thinks about his broken relationship with Qui-Gon.

He doesn't just want his master back; doesn't simply want their bond to return to its original strength and continue deepening. And he isn't content with wanting Qui-Gon to merely teach him and guide him towards Knighthood…no, he wants more. He wants Qui-Gon to care about him as much as he cares about Qui-Gon.

In short, he wants a father.

Because truth be told, he's felt this way before—he recalls the strange swooping feeling he'd had in the pit of his stomach after watching Nat and Pharrin interact last month, for example. Perhaps it's been building over the entire course of his relationship with Qui-Gon the past year and he hasn't noticed.

It's not an unfamiliar feeling; wanting Qui-Gon to protect him and comfort him just by being there. It's just that he has never had a name for it until now.

It all makes perfect sense now—he has always been too emotional; too prone to fear and attachment. It was what had made Qui-Gon originally reject him as a padawan the first time he'd seen Obi-Wan fight Bruck. And now he has gone and somehow attached himself to the one person who wants nothing more than to hold him at arm's length for the rest of their time together.

Because if he knows one thing, it's that Qui-Gon has been betrayed and hurt by padawans too many times in the past. There's no telling if he'll ever really recover from the betrayal and loss of Xanatos. And there's absolutely no way he'd ever want to draw Obi-Wan closer than anything resembling a perfunctory master-padawan relationship.

Stupid, stupid Obi-Wan. It's going to take a lot of meditation and releasing feelings into the Force to get over this.

"…Obi-Wan? Are you okay? You look like you're in pain; do you want me to call Master Che?" Bant's worried voice breaks into his thoughts.

"No," Obi-Wan says dimly, laying an urgent hand on Bant's forearm. "No, don't call anyone. I'm fine…I just…" he takes a deep breath, still startled by the depth of his sudden realization. "Sithspit," he mutters darkly. "Bant, I…I think I wish Qui-Gon were my father."

To his great surprise, Bant laughs. "Oh, is that all? I could have told you that myself, Obi-Wan."

Eying her with disbelief, Obi-Wan waits for an explanation.

"I mean, really, Obi-Wan—everyone knows that you and Master Jinn have one of the strongest bonds the Order has seen in recent history. It's no wonder you look up to him and want him to care about you."

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan says, panic beginning to creep into his emotions. "Bant, you don't think Qui-Gon knows that I feel this way, do you?"

Bant laughs again. "I don't know, Obi! Maybe you could actually talk to him about it, instead of internalizing it and worrying about it like I'm sure you want to do."

Obi-Wan shudders at the thought of actually telling his master any of this emotional nonsense. "Yeah, maybe, Bant," he says, although they both know that he will never actually bring the matter up with Qui-Gon of his own volition.

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Bant stands, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Look, I should go. I can tell that you have a lot to think about, and you can barely keep your eyes open. But feel better soon, okay? Comm me when you're out of here and we'll take a walk around the gardens."

Obi-Wan nods his heavy head, murmuring a quiet goodbye before sinking back down against the coolness of his pillows. He is glad for the sudden exhaustion that sweeps over him. He doesn't want to think about this mess, because no matter how many scenarios he plays out in his mind, none of them end happily.

He is too tired to seek the healing power of meditation, but he reaches into his pocket out of habit, relieved to find the stone that Qui-Gon had given him for his thirteenth life-day gift there. It warms to his touch and he clutches it in his fingers, willing his thoughts to quiet and his body to calm and center itself.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Perhaps it means something that Qui-Gon, who had had three padawans, had chosen to give this stone to Obi-Wan and not his first two apprentices. Perhaps it meant that he was special to Qui-Gon.

But then again, maybe not.

He drifts to sleep at some point, his fingers still clenched tightly around the Force rock, and his heart a tumultuous storm of longing and fear.

Cerasi's face haunts him. She is dying, bleeding out slowly right in front of him.

"Why didn't you save me, Obi-Wan?! This is all your fault!" She cries, her eyes full of hate and accusation.

Her face morphs into Bruck Chun, dangling over a precipice; about to fall to his death.

"It's your fault, Obi-Wan! You could have saved me. You should have tried harder!"

He is gasping for air, the pain in his heart robbing his lungs of the ability to function. My fault, my fault, my fault…

"Obi-Wan!" A sharp voice is saying in his ear. He becomes aware of strong hands gripping his biceps, shaking him lightly. "Obi-Wan, wake up!" The voice sounds worried, but Obi-Wan doesn't know why.

He is confused about where he is and what is happening—Cerasi and Bruck's faces still dance and swim angrily before his eyes, but he is also unmistakably aware of Qui-Gon's familiar presence. His breathing begins to calm and slow as he climbs back to wakefulness. Things can't be too bad if Qui-Gon is here, right?

"That's it," Qui-Gon's voice says near his ear. One of the large hands leaves his left bicep and comes up to cup Obi-Wan's cheek lightly. "Open your eyes, Padawan. It was just a dream. You're safe."

Obi-Wan struggles to comply, lifting leaden eyelids. His head aches and he is exhausted. He doesn't immediately recognize his surroundings, and it takes him a long moment to remember that he is in the infirmary, where he had fallen asleep after talking to Bant.

Qui-Gon reaches out to him over their bond, offering warmth and comfort; soothing the ragged edges of his hysteria and terror over the nightmare. Obi-Wan sighs in relief at the mental touch, allowing Qui-Gon's strength to infuse his troubled thoughts with peace.

Until he jerks back to full awareness, suddenly cognizant of how childish and needy he is being; crying out over dreams and latching onto Qui-Gon's mental comfort like a youngling in the crèche! It only becomes worse when he remembers what he and Bant had discussed before she had left.

Sensing his mental turbulence, Qui-Gon respectfully withdraws, although his hand remains steadfast on Obi-Wan's cheek for a moment longer.

For a while, Obi-Wan simply focuses on breathing. In, out. In, out. He eventually drops into a sort of light meditation, tapping into the healing current of the Force as he does every night to soothe himself when he wakes up from his nightmares.

Eventually, the fear and guilt and other negative emotions associated with the dream are gone, released back into the Force. All that is left is embarrassment, and he bites his lip awkwardly, avoiding Qui-Gon's gaze.

Qui-Gon sits back in the chair next to the infirmary bed, his eyes pensive.

"You seem like you have a lot of practice calming yourself down after nightmares," he remarks neutrally.

Obi-Wan shrugs, hunching his shoulders and picking at a loose thread on the thin, firmly-starched infirmary blanket.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says. Obi-Wan looks up, and is surprised to see genuine sadness in his master's eyes. "You've been having nightmares ever since our return from Telos, haven't you?"

It isn't a question; not really.

So Obi-Wan nods slowly, looking back down at the blanket.

Qui-Gon lets out a weary sigh, sort of the way the crèche master would always sigh when one of his charges was ill or injured. "I owe you an apology, Padawan." Obi-Wan's head jerks up at that—it seems like Qui-Gon never makes mistakes. "I know that I have been distant as of late. The loss of Xanatos has been…difficult, and I have buried myself in my own grief without giving any regard to what you yourself have been dealing with. I should have seen you were struggling with nightmares much sooner."

Obi-Wan swallows thickly. "I didn't want to bother you, Master. I can handle these dreams on my own, honestly. They're not—"

"Not what, Padawan?" Qui-Gon interjects sternly. "They're not affecting you? Master Che said her scans revealed that you are significantly sleep-deprived, and it isn't like you to be distracted during saber class."

Obi-Wan shrugs helplessly. "It didn't seem that bad at the time. Like I said, Master, I can deal with the dreams—"

Qui-Gon leans forward, his leonine features intent. "But you shouldn't have to, Obi-Wan. It's my job as your master to guide you through trying times like this, but I can't help if I don't know what is wrong. As I said before, it was my own fault that I was being inattentive to you. But no longer. We will face these nightmares together, Padawan."

"I'm sorry about getting hurt and delaying our mission," Obi-Wan says, his voice small.

"That is the least of my concerns, Padawan," Qui-Gon says. "Your wellbeing is far more important to me than any mission. We will leave the Temple when Master Che says that you are fit for a mission, and no sooner."

Obi-Wan throat hurts with emotion. It's no wonder he feels so confused about his relationship with his master when the older man is so compassionate and understanding at the times that Obi-Wan least expects it!

"Sleep now, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon instructs him. He can hear the Force suggestion quite loudly in his master's voice this time, and struggles to fight it. "I will stay with you."

Obi-Wan's eyes drift shut again. Suddenly sleep doesn't seem like such a bad idea—it's not like he has anywhere to be, after all.

"Promise?" He murmurs quietly, just wanting to be certain.

"I promise. Rest now." Qui-Gon's voice is a slow rumble from the bedside, and Obi-Wan drifts away towards slumber, his throat still oddly tight. He is not afraid of having another nightmare tonight; not with Qui-Gon at his side.

He doesn't feel the single tear that slips out of his closed eye and rolls down his cheek.

Nor does he feel the warm hand that brushes it away and pulls the blankets up over his shoulders, tucking him in and standing guard over him for the rest of the night.

The next time he awakes, morning sunlight streams through the window, and Qui-Gon is lacing up his boots in the chair next to Obi-Wan's bed.

"I'm sorry to leave you, Padawan," he says. "I need to meet with the Council to reschedule our mission. But I hear you have a visitor who will keep you company in the meantime." There is a frighteningly mischievous glint in his eye.

"Who?" Obi-Wan asks curiously, slightly alarmed.

"Siri Tachi," Qui-Gon says casually, his mouth curved upward on one end.

"Master," Obi-Wan groans.

"What? I haven't said anything but her name. You seem very defensive, Padawan."

"It's the way you said it," Obi-Wan protests sternly, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He knows Qui-Gon is laughing at him. It's true that Siri is pretty and that many of his agemates are interested in her, but she doesn't like him, and he doesn't really like her all that much either. He just enjoys sparring with her and arguing with her. She's an interesting person. That's all, of course.

"My apologies, sensitive Padawan of mine," Qui-Gon says as he stands, surprising Obi-Wan by placing an affectionate hand on his head briefly as Siri Tachi knocks on the infirmary door. "I will see you this afternoon."

It isn't until Obi-Wan goes to the fresher after Siri leaves that he realizes that his padawan braid had somehow been looped around his ear the entire time Siri was there. He groans in embarrassment as he rights it, sure that Qui-Gon's gesture as he'd left is the responsible party for his hairdo.

As revenge, he vows to be particularly difficult and recalcitrant as he spends the next week recuperating in their quarters.

Not a very action-packed chapter, but I think that Obi-Wan needed to have some of these conversations/revelations. The next one will be an actual mission, and we'll get to see them actually doing Jedi stuff haha

Thanks for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated :)