I feel like complete and utter crap for waiting so long to update this. It's all November's fault–National Novel Writing Month totally got in the way of any and all fan fictions. I finished my novel, though, and so I'm back onto Polarity with a fury. My muse did desert me (it was ticked off cos I was spending more time with Novel-Muse than Polarity-Muse), but hopefully it will reappear soon. Please Musey, come home soon. I miss you!

I've just moved to London for the next three months, so again updates may not come as quickly as you or I would prefer, but I shall try.

Chapter Eight:

Qui-Gon looked up from his reading as a knock on the door sounded. Without waiting for a response, the door whooshed open, revealing a flushed, panting Obi-Wan. The boy smiled sheepishly as he stepped into the room, bowing.

"Sorry I'm late, Master," he said, biting his lip. Qui-Gon caught a wave of uncertainty from the boy, and quickly moved to dispel his fears.

"It's fine, Obi-Wan. How was your day?" Qui-Gon motioned for the boy to sit at the table in the center of the room. As Obi-Wan complied, the Jedi Master stepped into the small kitchen and brought out their evening meal.

"It was great, Master. Everything is so different here, I really lo–" Obi-Wan stopped abruptly, his features suddenly overcome with fear.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon sighed, watching the Padawan carefully, "I think it's time you explained yourself. You have acted so differently, ever since you woke up in the hospital wing. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Obi-Wan protested, swallowing. "I didn't mean different here, just–"

"I am your Master, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon cut him off. "I would never force you to do anything against your will, but I wish you would trust me. I trust you, my Padawan, with my life. I often wonder if that will ever be reciprocated. It must," Qui-Gon said as he rose from the table, "or the bond between Master and Padawan will never be strong enough to withstand the trials we are sure to face." Qui-Gon frowned slightly, his stormy blue eyes measuring the boy he saw before him, then strode to his room.

Obi-Wan stared at the floor, his thin frame hunched, but still. Qui-Gon's words, spoken ever so gently, had cut the boy's soul to the quick.

Qui-Gon sat down slowly on his sleepcouch, furious with himself. Why did he have to hurt the boy so? They had been making such progress, and now this. Obi-Wan might never trust his Master again.

The Jedi Master frowned. Why shouldn't Obi-Wan trust him? What had happened to the boy? What had turned the sweet, brave, often foolhardy Padawan into the frightened boy he saw before him?

Qui-Gon lay back on his sleepcouch and cast his thoughts back to that first day Obi-Wan had exhibited such strange behavior. The med center. The boy had woken up frightened, railing against his Master. Why?

Qui-Gon raced into the alleyway, lightsaber held high. What was Obi-Wan doing here? Why had his Force signature been so distinctly wrong? Qui-Gon caught sight of his young Padawan just in time to see him fall to the glass-littered earth. Focus flowing through him, Qui-Gon decided not to pursue the strange men who were immune to the Force. Instead, he knelt next to his fallen student and reached out to him through the Force.

Obi-Wan's signature was seriously muted, strange, wrong. Qui-Gon tried to catch the boy in the Force, hoping to tie his signature down for just a moment, just enough to figure out what was wrong, but the traces of Obi-Wan slipped through his grasp like fish escaping a fisherman's hands. Qui-Gon caught glimpses of strange visions–a short human who looked curiously like Master Yoda, a reflection of Obi-Wan's unclothed torso in the mirror, covered with bruises and cuts. A glimpse of Qui-Gon's face, fury etched in every line. Pain.

Qui-Gon shook his head, pushing the strange visions to the back of his head as he rushed his Padawan to the medcenter. He had forgotten the visions.

Until now. But even in recalling them, he wasn't sure he had the answers to the puzzle. More was there, certainly, but there were still gaps in the logic. Qui-Gon had his suspicions and–

–a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," Qui-Gon said, and the door whooshed open to reveal a humble and nervous Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon stood and opened his mouth to apologize to the boy for scaring him, but Obi-Wan cut him off.

"With all due respect, Master Qui-Gon, I think it will be easier for me to explain if I'm not interrupted." Without waiting for acknowledgement from the Jedi Master, he continued. "It's just that . . . somehow, I don't know how, neither does he. . . Um. The closest I can understand, Master, is that there is. . .somehow, there's a different dimension out there. One that reflects this one, but the reflection is distorted. Or maybe this reality is the distortion, I don't know. But when Obi-Wan–your Obi-Wan, that is–was hurt, he switched realities with me. I'm from the other reality, that's why I've been acting weird. But Obi-Wan and I, we think we've figured out how to switch back–" a pained look crossed the boy's face "–and well, there's not really anything you can do to help, me neither. It's all on Obi-Wan's shoulders now, the other Obi-Wan. So all I can do is wait. I just thought. . . I just wanted you to know, sir, so you wouldn't think that I was acting strange on your account. I guess I should have said something before. . . I thought I could get away with silence, but I never meant to offend you or anything, Master Jinn. I'm sorry."

Qui-Gon stood in shocked silence for a moment, then laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Thank you for trusting me, Obi-Wan. I would like to help you, but there is much I don't understand. For now, let me think about this. It's a lot to take in at once, wouldn't you agree?"

Obi-Wan nodded, his face relieved. "Yes sir. I'll just be in my room?"

"You may go wherever you wish, Obi-Wan. I will call for you when I am ready."

Obi-Wan bowed, casting one last look at his master, and left the room. Qui-Gon keyed his door shut, sighed loudly, and fell back in his sleepcouch. This would take some serious thought.